


Harry Potter and the Ancient Magics

by Piff



Series: Harry Potter and the Cursed Children [4]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And that's just the summer months, Blood, Gen, Gore, Heavy Violence towards people of all ages, M/M, Setting fires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26071066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piff/pseuds/Piff
Summary: Boy's summer is full of blood, violence, and death as he starts to take his place as a Proxy for Slender Man, and he couldn't be happier. Though he's discovering that it's a lot more work than he realized, it's going to be a summer to remember.Hopefully going back to Hogwarts won't bore him to death after such freedom, but he has Neville waiting for him and new ways to terrify people. It'll be fine! Oh, the school is hosting a competition with new students coming in? Cool. Watching people die for a trophy should be fun. Krumm's kinda cute too.
Relationships: Hogwarts couples, Neville Longbottom/Harry Potter, Various Creepy Pasta pairings
Series: Harry Potter and the Cursed Children [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1015752
Comments: 371
Kudos: 530
Collections: Avada Kedavra B!tch





	1. Before the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Blood, guts, and gore, I swear. Gunna be a while before Harry goes to school but should be worth it I think.

It was a lovely summer day...

Boy laughed as he clawed his way up the rattling chain-link fence, just to leap off once he reached the top. He scrambled noisily in the gravel for a moment before he got his feet properly under him, and he took off for the building nearby. He heard Hoody curse behind him and grinned wolfishly.

Poor Hoody, he hadn’t liked the stingingly hot metal when he’d climbed up after Boy. 

It wasn’t exactly a new skill, just not one he’d been in the habit of using. But after some practice and concentration Boy could heat things with his hands _almost_ to the point of setting them on fire. Or in the case of metal, get it really really hot. Mimi loved it of course, curling around his hands and fingers while trilling a little song about the joys of coal and cozy bonfires as he practiced.

Voldemort was slightly less enchanted by the whole matter, especially after he’d burnt his mouth on Boy’s blood, but that was his own damn fault. And did you see Boy complaining about his neck? No, because HE could be mature and a bigger person and _apologize_ , unlike certain ex-world-dominating maniacs who decided instead to curl up in a heap under one of the hotel beds like a sulking _child_. 

But that little irritation was less important than the task at hand as Boy was soon reminded.

“Get back here, you scurvy little trash goblin!”

He cackled in response and wiggled his way through the broken and sagging doors of the warehouse. Rusted chain links were scattered uselessly across the yard, a testament that at one point someone HAD tried to keep people out but ultimately failed. The abandoned building was huge and it was amazing how every town had something like it, though some were only barns and others entire factories. Not as cool as a rundown asylum perhaps, but this particular warehouse had cat-walks, massive metal shelving units, and forgotten pallets by the dozens. There was even a rusted forklift that had seen better days decades ago.

Directly to his left, a very skinny and very much not to be trusted ladder connected up to the first layer of catwalks. Perfect! While thinking very light thoughts in hope it would keep the bent and holey rungs in one piece for just a few minutes longer, he scrambled up the fragile ladder while listening to Hoody fight with the doors. 

Some days it did pay to be on the small side, didn’t it? Not that he’d ever, ever say it out loud. 

Sadly, it was just him and Hoody to play around the creaking death-trap, what with Liu out doing a couple errands. No weapons, just a casual game of tag to get rid of the fidgets and pass the time. Duck and weave and dodge and try not to get impaled by anything because Lockjaw would _suck_ and Boy had things to do.

Such as, he suddenly picked up the pace and launched himself over the handrail of the catwalk, landing solidly on a shelf of one of the units, which.. alright not the best of ideas as the sudden weight made the metal start to buckle in a cloud of reddish rust. But as long as he kept moving, everything was fine. Right? Right.

He made a mental note to not do it again.

A note which he promptly ignored the moment Hoody tried to corner him near a boarded-up office. The rusted framework screeched even louder under Boy’s feet and the whole rack tilted until it slammed up against the next unit, which then tilted into the third. By the grace of the Elder Gods, Boy managed to somehow not get smooshed between the massive things and rode it out. It was kind of fun, like something from a video game! If it weren’t for the cloud of potential tetanus that enveloped everything, making Boy fling his arms up over his face to wait it out. When things stopped moving and creaking and should theoretically have settled.. Boy peaked between his arms. 

Looked clear.

Had to brush himself off a bit, but his hood had kept his hair relatively clean. And his ears were ringing a bit and made it harder to hear Hoody say-

“Welp, that ends that. Let’s get out of here before the cops show up.”

Hoody shook his head but didn’t seem too upset as they scurried off. The sheer amount of noise had to have attracted some attention, so they needed to get clear before people started to investigate. Back to the most boringly generic motel ever, with its beige coloring and cheap furniture. Boy was pretty sure he’d seen it’s exact type in a million or so horror movies which.. was fairly ironic and he loved it.

Thanks to Liu’s foresight about walls so thin that people could hear each other breathing, the trio had managed to get the one furthest from the lobby AND had two whole empty rooms between them and the next renter, a family of three whose toddler kept playing the same disney movie over… and over… and over…

The shower drowned out the crooning main character, but hunger and a devastatingly small water tank had Boy in and out speedily. But best distraction of all, Liu was back and he’d brought lunch! A change of clothes later Boy was sitting on the foot of a bed with fish n chips so fresh it was still steaming, the grease running down his wrists as he scarfed it down.

“I thought you two were going to lay low while I was gone?”

Hoody jerked a thumb at the youngest member, and- “this little fruitcake started pacing, and you know how much I hate that. I gave him a couple options but he chose to go for a run, so it’s not my fault. Blame him.”

Boy stuck his tongue out at him before cramming another fry in his mouth. 

Liu stared at Hoody with his usual look of irritation. “You know how important this is. You _have_ to remain _unseen_ , especially right now. While he may have no concept of subtlety,” he ignored the sound of protest from Boy, “but _you_ should know better. I was gone only a couple hours and you’ve already almost ruined the whole thing.”

Hoody dropped his smile and sat up straighter. “Excuse the fuck out of me, but what is it you do again? Walk up and shoot people in the face? Out of the two of us, who is more likely to not be noticed when stalking prey for weeks on end?”

“You’re not stalking anyone right now, you’re waiting. And failing at it. You want to explain to everyone why we have to start over?”

Hooo boy.

Licking his fingers, Boy’s eyes flicked from one glaring teen to the other and he quickly decided he wanted no part of another argument. Since he was more or less done eating, but not willing to stand up and draw their attention, Boy carefully set aside his lunch trash and slowly slid off the end of the bed to the floor. Then under it. Not because he was a baby who needed to hide, of course not, he had a much more reptilian reason to squirm his way under the creaky, musty piece.

‘Oi, You ready _for tonight Old Man_?’ 

The half-english and half-hissed words had a rasp to it, as if Boy had a sore throat. A cold perhaps. Or a fucking massive bite mark at the junction of his neck and shoulder that had left him sounding like a wizended smoker. Thank fucking god the swelling hadn’t gone too far up his throat and he was still able to breath.

_‘Abomination, I am always ready to kill worthless Muggles.’_

_‘Ahuh. Gunna be nice to Mimi?’_

Voldemort hissed again but didn’t make his usual threats. Mimi was now prone to spitting fireballs at him whenever he eyed her a little too intently, so perhaps she had earned his grudging respect. Nah, he just didn’t want to listen to her high pitched complaints.

Boy stretched out on the scratchy carpet, using an arm as a pillow. He was just small enough to fit in the narrow space and hopefully Hoody wouldn’t throw himself down on the mattress again or Boy would become one with the boxspring.

_‘This is gunna be fun. Gunna kill some people my way and fool around and people will tell my story everywhere! And the internet is gunna love me ‘cause I’m so fucking cute.’_

The snake snorted. _‘People will tell tales of your stupidity for years to come.’_

Rolling his eyes, Boy listened to the elder teens for a moment. _‘I’m surrounded by killjoys.’_

Much as he liked them, Liu and Hoody were the last people Boy would have picked as his backup. Toby and Jeff would have been at the top of the list but they had been specifically banned from coming along on the grounds that they were too unpredictable at a time when things had to be carefully planned and carried out. 

Which Boy could understand but had still loudly complained about the entire road trip out of London. Eyeless couldn’t come because he wouldn’t have been able to blend in with other people, and Masky was busy with things for Slender…? So he was stuck with Liu and Hoody.

Could have been worse. Especially once Boy learned that the initial plan had been to chuck him and Voldie out on the street for a month to figure it out on their own. No back up, no plans, no tips. Boy would take Hoody’s teasing and Liu’s poker face ANY day over that. In fact, the very idea of being completely on his own made Boy’s mouth go dry and had him wiggling out from under the bed to see if the other two were ready to stop sniping at each other. A distraction.. he needed a distraction.. uhh...

“Hey. Hey!” Waiting for them both to look at him, Hoody flipping Liu off one more time, “sunset is hours away, can we go see a movie? Oh, oh, we passed an arcade this morning! Let’s go out!”

“No.”

“Sure.”

The elder two stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Hoody shrugged and picked up his soda to chug down half the can. Liu however turned to Boy and shook his head. “You should get some rest, it’s going to be a long night and you don’t want to make any mistakes because you're tired.”

Sleep? _Now?_

“What the hell? I’m not a baby anymore!” Boy hopped up to his feet and moved in closer to poke Liu in the chest. He uhh.. had to reach up a bit to do so because Liu was nearly a foot taller. Fuck his short height. “I don’t need a fucking nap, I’m fine! Wide awake! I could go for days!” He had the urge to stomp a foot but even he knew that was not going to help his argument. He wasn’t tired from one measly little game earlier just because he sounded a little hoarse!

There was a small sound from the tiny table where Hoody was sitting, like he’d smothered a laugh. Liu, looking down at Boy, also found something funny about Boy’s outrage and actually cracked a smile. “I didn’t say you had to sleep, I said you should rest. Save some of that manic energy for later. Christ, you really are just like Jeff, aren’t you?” And to further incense Boy’s mood, he patted the smaller Proxy-to-be on the cheek in a move so _affectionate_ and _patronizing_ that Boy snapped his head to the side and bit down.

Boy could still taste the blood on his lips as he sulked from the bed next to the grimy window that refused to open, and furthest from the door. Arms wrapped around his knees, he glowered as Hoody poured peroxide over Liu’s hand and wrapped a bandage around it while giggling madly.

Assholes, both of them. He wasn’t talking to either teenager anymore, they could go jump a fucking bridge. At least Mimi still loved him, the lithe little beauty leaving her teapot to keep him company as he ‘rested’. 

If only she could fully grasp the concept of time.

_‘Now?’_

_‘Later.’_

_‘Now?’_

_‘Soon!’_

_‘....now?’_

Boy was pretty sure this was the karma he got from playing the Are We There Yet? in the car. It kind of sucked. A lot. 

_‘Nooooow?_ ’ whined the baby snake.

Instead of answering her, Boy flopped over and pulled a pillow over his head to block out her hissing. Didn’t work for long, she wormed her way under it and with her snout booped _him_ on _his_ nose for a change. Like magic, Boy’s bad mood lifted and he had to smile. Silly thing, she was such a baby still. 

He may or may not have fallen asleep soon after that, but he’d never admit to it. Especially not to Liu, even if he did hand Boy a styrofoam cup of coffee once emerging from the pillows to yawn at the dim evening light. Lots of milk and sugar too, Boy didn’t like his coffee nearly as bitter as Jeff did and that was probably a metaphor for life but that was too philosophical for a newly-wakened boy to think about. He drank the metaphor before it could give him a headache.

The few belongings that had gotten scattered around the room had been collected, he soon noticed. Everything but his backpack had been chucked into the car for a speedy getaway, leaving only a change of clothes and some soap for cleaning up. No need to soak the car with blood after all, not when they still had to use it.

Mimi’s warmth felt good on his sore neck so Boy let her stay wrapped around him as he drank his coffee and munched on some cold french fries. He may have yawned a few times more, but the excitement was building back up and it chased away any lingering bits of sleepiness along with the coffee. 

“Ready?”

“Almost.” Boy knelt down to peer under the bed. Voldie’s red eyes gleamed in the darkness and wordlessly the snake slithered out. Far bigger than Mimi, the albino cobra draped himself across Boy’s shoulders with his head raised high. Heavy fucker, and Boy knew the cobra was deliberately leaning into the bite mark on Boy’s shoulder. It didn’t ache as much but it was still sore!

“Ok, we’re ready.”

“Then the show’s all yours Shortie.” Hoody ruffled his hair, dodging the cranky snake, before he opened the motel door. “We’ll stay here till you’re done, but don’t ask for a hand unless it’s a last resort, k?”

“Yeah yeah…” Boy tried to leave only to get hauled back by the hood of his sweatshirt. “Oh come on!”

Liu pulled said hood up over Boy’s head and ignored the baleful glare. “You don’t have the experience to mess around with living prey, so don’t get cocky and make sure to cut their throats before they wake up. Just like Eyeless told you, start on the right side and go across to the left. And don’t forget to leave the message.”

“Yes, yes, of course, I got this dammit!”

Finally, _finally_ , they let him go. 

Freedom!


	2. You missed a spot

Funny enough, Boy’s much-prepared for destination was only a few doors down the narrow strip of sidewalk. The lights from the parking lot were dim to the point of barely serviceable, so even if the cameras hadn’t had their wires clipped Boy wouldn’t have worried too much about being seen. He cocked his head to the side to listen for movement on the other side of the flimsy barrier.

As Eyeless always said, no one had ever died from double checking.

Next step- lockpicking the door without waking anyone up. Shabby little motels like this, they didn’t bother with fancy keycards but used cheap key locks, wasn’t that lucky? Boy had thought he might be forced to use a trick or two from school but the door opened with a soft snick after a little fiddling. He didn’t let it open too far either, fully expecting the door chain to be in use to balance out the crappy door lock. He could have been concerned about this because even his skinny arms weren’t going to be able to slide inside such a narrow gap…

But Mimi could. 

Boy held the slender snake up towards the cracked door and watched as she carefully inched inside. He had to trust that their earlier practice meant she remembered how to grasp the bolt at the end of the chain, slide it loose and out and _not let go_ until it was laying flat against the wall without a single clank.

Like that. Such a good girl. Boy kissed her on top of her head and wrapped her back around his neck.

 _‘Get a move on’_ , Voldie’s snapped hiss making Boy jump in surprise. 

_‘Fuck off,’_ giving the pale snout a harsh flick under the chin. When the serpent grumbled back into silent observation, Boy could start moving.

Open the door slowly… slowly…don’t hit anything that could be on the other side or too close. Boy held his breath and hoped this was not going to be the moment someone drove by in a super noisy junker of a car and blow everything to hell.

Door closed. And locked. And chained. Phase one was now complete and Boy thought his heart was going to break right through his ribs. Was this nervousness? Excitement? He wasn’t sure.

Now... who first? The dad who had spent all morning on the phone yelling at the insurance company? The Mom who had yelled at the dad for yelling and slammed her car door every time she came back from shopping? Or the little brat herself who had been playing Moana at full volume all fucking day long? If he’d had to listen to ‘You’re Welcome’ or ‘Shiny!’ one more time...

Picking past all the bags of painfully new clothes and toiletries, Boy made his way closer to the bed with the two adults. As Hoody and Liu _and_ Voldie had pointed out in their own ways, the adults were bigger and stronger so it was best to deal with them first and as soon as possible. Standing at the head of the bed Boy had a better view of the minor burns that speckled the dad’s arms, thrown up to save his face perhaps? He smelled like burn ointment. 

Boy wondered what the man had thought to save from the burning house first, his wife lying beside him or the little girl on the other bed? Or maybe something else entirely? Or nothing at all, maybe he only tried to save himself.

A lot could be inferred about a person when their life is literally going up in flames.

Not that it mattered. Boy reached into his pocket for his favorite knife and, with a movement that was almost elegant, he swept the supremely sharp blade through the man’s throat like butter. Starting on the right of course, and across the larynx to the other side to catch all four of the jugular tubes. He didn’t _really_ have to do both sides, the right had the bigger veins and thus more important, but Boy disliked listening to screams and if he was going to cut the front of the throat he might as well continue the arch to the left. 

The woman he was far less careful with. Not because she was a woman, perish the thought! Boy treated each gender with the same indifference, there was no discrimination here. It was merely because she was further away and had woken up to her husband’s gurgled thrashing to sit up in alarm. Boy lunged over the soaked form of her husband and stabbed her in the neck. Yanking the knife sideways left a long jagged tear instead of a clean cut but it was the same in the end- blood gushed everywhere and her gurgling was almost mute.

It was _marvelous._

Blood held a special place in Boy’s heart of hearts and he felt the urge to rub his face into the flowing rivers.

The very first time Boy had ever met Jeff, getting hauled out of the little cubby he called ‘home’, the elder boy had been soaked in the substance and it had quickly seeped into Boy’s shabby pajamas. Carried out of the house and away from the people who had tormented him to tears every day, Boy had fallen deeply in love with the color that soon symbolized safety and care and _freedom_.

The stickiness, the smell, the taste, being completely removed from society had allowed Boy to revel in his newly discovered love in ways that.. probably wasn’t healthy. But then, what part of his childhood was? Other than the unconditional love and support of his family, pretty much everything else Boy had learned would give quite a few psychiatrists an aneurysm. He knew it too, to a certain extent at least. Boy did have to know what normal was in order to fake it when out in public, so he absolutely understood he was all sorts of fucked up- he just didn’t care. 

Normal people were so _boring_. And then when you threw wizards into the mix with their whole new set of ‘normalcy’ and ‘societal guidelines’.. ugh. It was too hard to try to keep up with it all, he’d rather be the odd one people side-eyed than try to keep up.

Err…. During this utterly absorbing introspection, Boy might have forgotten one teeny tiny thing in a pink nightgown and pigtails.

The little girl was awake now, obviously, and staring at him with huge brown eyes like he was the Boogeyman from under her bed. She was also clutching a colorful plushy snake toy so hard that the middle was going to have some serious and permanent dents in the stuffing.

“Huh.” This gave him an idea. Boy unwrapped Voldie from his shoulders to unceremoniously drop the snake onto the soggy blankets and limp limbs. From there, Boy hopped right up onto and then over the bed himself to land on the carpet between the furniture. Once there, he crouched down to get a better look at the little girl and her pink and purple and glittery monstrosity. “So you like snakes? Like this big guy here?” He poked her toy.

He waited for her to slowly nod, a jerky movement that made her look like a puppet.

“Cool. Snakes are lucky, you know? Always keep a good snake around.” Boy grinned as he reached out and traced a bloodied finger over her cheek, leaving a swirly sort of mark. “You’re going to need all the luck you can get after this, so I suggest a LOT of snakes.”

 _‘Kill her and be done with it,’_ snapped Voldie. Mimi added her own two cents from Boy’s throat, _‘set her on fire?’_

“Nah, nah, both of you shut the fuck up. Hoo- they said I have to leave some of them alive to spread the news, so might as well pick a good reason for it. People who like snakes are good in my book. Though knock it off with the disney music, alright?” The last bit was to the girl, right before he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around the pale five year old. 

He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom to deposit her in the mostly-clean bathtub. She’d be safely out of the way in here, and out of sight was out of mind, so Voldie probably wouldn’t try to kill her either. “Stay here, get some sleep.” He tried to pat her on the head comfortingly but shrugged as the girl squirmed away. “If you start screaming I’ll send in that big ass cobra to bite you, so just stay put till someone comes to get you.”

Even crummy motels had a cleaning service, he’d just be sure to leave the door open when he left. And now with the parents dead and brat taken care of for the moment… Now it was time for some fun! Time for some blood!

There had been so much emphasis placed on the killing, that now seemed almost besides the point. Boy pulled his sweatshirt off over his head and examined the tableau on the bed for a moment. His second knife was smaller and thinner, but just as sharp as he prepared the bodies for easier access. 

The way to a man’s heart was through his belly!

Happily, even though so much blood had been lost through the slit throat, plenty of it pooled in the abdomen for playing with. Boy dipped his hands into the mess again and again, chucking the useless parts into a wastebasket to keep things tidy. Once there was ample space, he then invited Mimi down from his neck to see what she thought of the whole thing.

 _‘Needs more coal,’_ was the dissatisfied comment.

 _‘Funny. Just warm it up, ok?’’_ Keeping it stirred and heated would prevent it from clotting too quickly, she’d be a big help and she’d get an extra Ice Mice when they left. Mimi quickly agreed and slithered off into the depths of the body.

Voldie, there for cosmetic purposes only, ignored them to slowly clamber up onto the headboard of the parent’s bed. He looked down his narrow snout at the scene with a critical eye. Very Critical.

_‘You are disgusting.’_

_‘Says the mass murderer.’_

_‘I never drenched myself in the filth like a pig.’_

Boy looked down at himself.. and shrugged. Sure it was everywhere but that’s what made it fun! And he still had work to do so Voldie could fuck right off.

Boy had killed people before, obviously. Yet the biggest difference between Lockhart and this particular family was that this was done with full familial approval _and_ he wasn’t trying to hide the evidence. The more evidence the better in fact! And best of all, he had TWO bodies to work with instead of only one, even if it didn’t feel like pop-rocks going off in his mouth whenever he had to lick his fingers clean. Still fun! 

Sigils and lots and lots of Latin. Know how to make people think of demonic cults in the fastest way possible? MORE LATIN! No pentagrams, wrong demon, but lots of swirly snakes with long tails and fangs. And when he needed a break a few hours later, Boy just shoved an emptied corpse off the bed and sprawled on the utterly saturated sheets happily, wiggling his shoulders into the mattress. 

The smell of blood was almost overwhelmingly thick and Boy felt a little lightheaded with every deep breath. Should he…? Nah. 

From his comfortable sprawl he could not only admire the wall directly across, but watch all the symbols and sigils waver and dance as if they’d suddenly become 3D. Slender’s sigil was missing, but that would make sense right? He wasn’t a Proxy yet and it’d be silly to leave the marks of a Proxy before it happened. He’d been assured that there was a process to the madness so he’d go along with it for now.

Dead center in the pride of place on the wall, were the words- **‘They were chosen.’** That was the one and only phrase in plain English to make sure there were no misunderstandings.

A tagline that wasn’t going to make sense, not for a few more murders at least when some context could be pieced together, but it would suffice for now. They really had been chosen, this family of three who had had their house cruelly burnt down to the ground with everything they owned. Forced to move into a motel until they could find a new place to live while dealing with insurance claims and leases and trying to keep their traumatized child happy.. It’d been a rough few weeks for them. Thankfully they hadn’t been able to find a new place too quickly or had relatives to move in with or it would have made Boy’s job a lot harder.

While this fire had truly been an accident, carefully curated from the news and tracked by the elder boys, the next one wouldn’t be. Boy’s second victims were going to be chosen for him, again very carefully by Masky and Eyeless, but now it’d be up to Boy to burn them out of their home. And then follow them to bleed them out in whatever place they chose to camp out in.

Chosen by fire and sacrificed for blood, Boy’s Demon would be satisfied by the ritual. 

“God, we’re so fucking cheesey,” Boy grinned up at the ceiling. He was getting tired, with the job all finished up he should go take a shower and clean up for the drive to the next city. He was looking forward to a long nap in the car, but- Oh.. right. He had a itty bitty witness camped out in the bathroom. Crap.

Would it be too cruel to make her sit in the room with her dead parents while he showered? Prob’ly. He didn’t want her to go catatonic. But if he took a shower with her present, he could just hear Hannah scoldi- wait, no. That was no reason not to do something. Boy scrubbed a hand over his face and decided he just wasn’t comfortable with the idea. 

This was killing his good mood. Mimi, good girl that she was, fixed that as her tiny head suddenly popped out of the throat of the dead woman and squeaked at him. 

_‘No you silly thing, you have a fancy kettle for a bed. Come on, it’s time to go.’_

He held out a hand for her to wrap around his wrist. She was just as slathered in blood as he was as she slid free, though it was already drying and flaking off thanks to her natural body heat.

_‘Next time, there’ll be more for you to do. Gunna set off a nice big fire, hmm?’_

_‘Yes! BIG fire!’_

Boy eyed Voldie still draped over the headboard. 

Voldie eyed him back. 

_‘Don’t even attempt to touch me, you filthy thing. I shall make my own way back.’_

Boy shrugged and rolled off the bed to his feet. The floor was pretty clean if you didn’t look at the corpse on the floor, Voldie would be able to keep his scales clean if he really thought it important. Boy didn’t even need Voldie around really, the giant white snake was just for show. Good thing Boy had decided to keep the girl alive, she’d be able to talk about the big ass cobra to the authorities. Not so much the tiny red one, which was just fine cause the focus should be on demons and the bloodbath, not magic. Not yet. Fairly hypocritical when you thought about it but that was too bothersome so he didn’t.

Boy opened the front door, then turned back to turn off all the lights. Oops, almost forgot his hoody, better grab that too. Sadly it’d have to be burnt with the rest of his clothes but that’s why he didn’t wear his favorite. See? He could be smart sometimes! Or he could listen to his more experienced siblings and wear his worst clothes for that reason.

Eh.

Boy left the door cracked open, using a large loafer to make sure it didn’t fall all the way open before the cleaning ladies arrived. Voldie was already halfway down the sidewalk and Boy huffed in irritation. Had he asked Voldie to come along? Had he needed Voldie at all? Nope, no, and nadda. Stupid fucking snake was such a.. 

A…

“Fucking fucker..” Boy muttered. He knocked gently on the motel door and grinned toothily up at Hoody when he finally deigned to answer it. Holding his arms out wide, “hug me!”

“Oh to hell with that, get in here.” Hoody planted his palm against Boy’s forehead when the smaller teen tried to hug him anyways. “Gross. You’re gross. Go get in the shower already so we can git. Liu picked up muffins for breakfast. Oh my god…”

Boy had twisted under the hand and ducked his head to lunge for Hoody. He wrapped his arms tightly around Hoody’s waist and uh… wiggled. Rubbed his face against Hoody’s chest to wipe the blood off on his shirt because sharing was caring and Boy was willing to share the mess with great glee.

“Oh my god..” Hoody repeated in a far more pained tone. “Get off, you little plague rat! Liu!”

“You’re a big boy, you can handle it.”

Boy made sure to transplant as much of the blood as possible onto Hoody before he was forced to let go. He beamed at Liu as he passed him on the way to the bathroom. “I did everything I was supposed to! It’s perfect!”

“Great. I’ll give you a pat on the head after you’ve gotten cleaned up. Be quick please, we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“Kay!”

He heard Hoody muttering dire threats as the door closed and Boy started stripping down. Alright, so that had been a dick move and Hoods would have to change his own clothes now, but it’d been funny! Hoody had always encouraged him to give hugs to people when he’d been covered in mud or swamp water. Was his own fault he’d created a lifelong habit.

The blood made very visually pleasing swirls in the water until disappearing down the drain. 

Liu was waiting for him outside the bathroom, leaning against the wall. Taking the towel draped over Boy’s shoulder, Liu dropped it over his head and started to pat the sopping mane dry. “Hoody took Voldemort to the car already, so we just need you and your bag. Anything you need to do before we book it out of here?”

Boy endured the rough toweling as he thought about it. People, killed. Room, bloodied. “No.”

“Hoody looked in, he says you did a good job in leaving a mess. Jeff would be proud.”

“...really?” Boy swatted the hands away to look out from under the fuzzy fabric. “You think he’d be proud? I left the little girl alive.”

“And? We told you to leave some of them alive, and you chose this one. As long as you have a good reason for it then no one can say different. Let’s go then, we’ve got a distance to drive.”

Liu did an odd move then, and cupped Boy’s cheek in his hand and swiped his thumb over the scar crossing Boy’s cheekbone. Boy blinked up at him a few times as the gentle touch came totally out of left field. Should he bite him again?

“Huh. You’re growing scales.”

He.. what? Boy felt his eyes widen as he reached up to touch the same spot. He hadn’t bothered with the mirror in the bathroom and hadn’t thought to take a look at his scar. He was pretty sure he’d know if he had grown scales, but… huh. The slender ridge of his scar felt harder. Not exactly rougher, bumpier might have been a better word. 

“That fast?”

“I would guess so. Get in the car.”

Boy stared up at him for a moment, but turned to grab the bag with his bloodied clothes and shoes, checked his hoody pocket for Mimi, and trailed after Liu feeling a trifle confused. He’d get a better look at his face later, right now he really needed a nap.


	3. Little Annoyances

“Brrrruush me! Brrrrrrrush me! Teh hee hee!”

Boy jerked upright too fast and the momentum shoved him face first into the back of the seat in front of him. Over the throb of his nose and chattering Tattletail, he could hear Toby laughing like a hyena and turned to blindly lash out. 

“Awwww, somebody grumpy? Let’s go bitty baby, got a nice soft bed for you inside and breakfast!”

Hands hooked under Boy’s armpits and he was dragged, literally kicking and swearing, out of the car and dumped on the ground. 

“I hate you!”

“Lies! All lies! After all I’ve done for you, you adore me. Or else.”

Sunlighlight was glinting off of Toby’s orange goggles and Boy squinted up at him. Voldie, the blasted traitor, was draped over Toby’s shoulders because of course he loved Toby the most. The cobra was physically unable to make any expressions but Boy could feel the smirk. Still, Boy took the hand Toby offered him and lurched up to his feet. His bare feet as he soon realized from the rough gravel under his toes.

Oh god it was fucking bright out here… Boy squinted at the sky and it’s audacity to not be cloudy. With some more looking around, he realized the little car wasn’t parked in front of another battered roadside motel, but instead an even shabbier looking house. Hut. Shed. It was _tiny_ but then Boy had grown up in a literal castle so… yeah. There were some trees with the faint edges of another house through them at a good distance away. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Rest stop. It’s actually super hard to find a place right next door to your murder victims, we were just lucky the first time. It’s so good to see you, c’mere!” 

Boy was too fuzzy-headed for this. And the Tattletail was still screaming in the car. When Toby tried to pick him up to swing him around, Boy hooked a foot behind Toby’s knee and dropped him to the ground. Snake and all. 

“Hey! This is abuse! I’m feeling abused! I’m telling on you!”

“Good. I thought you weren’t even supposed to be here, that’s what Liu and Hoody said.” Boy reached into the car and picked up his toy from the floorboard. Raking his nails through the fur soon had it quiet and purring, almost like a real animal. Holding back a yawn, Boy crawled inside the vehicle to get his shoes from under the seat where he must have kicked them off during his nap. Or Liu had taken them off considering the tight lacing of the boots. Hood would have just let him suffer, so it was probably Liu. “Where’s Liu and Hoods?” Mimi was in her kettle, so that went into his backpack.

“Sleeping. Like you, they had a long night and then drove all morning and so they’re crashed inside. You’re too big to carry now so they just let you sleep in the car.” 

He was? Boy looked down at himself and was pretty sure he was pleased to hear this. 

“Ok, but why are you here?” 

Toby scratched Voldie under the chin, a move the large snake tolerated with pretty good grace. “I’m here cause I am the family expert at setting fires dontcha know. Who do you think burnt out the first set of rats? Not for long though, I gotta make like Cinderella and beat it before my glass slippers shatter. Ever think about how dancing in glass shoes must hurt? I mean think about it, no cushioning, tall heels…”

Boy rolled his eyes. “They were magic slippers from the fairy godmother. And even so, there’s a theory that it’s a mis-translation from old french and it was originally a fur slipper.” 

So there.

Boots laced, Boy raked his fingers through his hair. Or he tried to. Going by the knots he kept finding, fingers were not nearly as good as using an actual brush and he really should have braided it after taking his shower. One day he was gunna try out dreadlocks, one day!

“How.. how do you… you know what, I blame Ben. And Eyeless. Those nutjobs have filled your head with nonsense.”

“Really? Really Toby? Ben and Eyeless did that?”

“Don’t get sassy with me, you.. you… small, sassy child.”

If Snakes could facepalm, Voldemort would have. Instead he had to nip Toby’s ear and jerk his head towards the house. With a sigh that took over the entire body, Toby gave in and got back to his feet to dust himself off.

“Come on bitty baby, let’s go inside before the neighbors get suspicious. Well, they’d have to come back to life first but let’s not make any suspicious zombies. Too messy, leaving fingers and eyeballs everywhere…”

Boy grinned but grabbed his backpack and Tattletail to follow Toby into the tiny cottage. Porch falling to pieces, windows boarded up, cobwebs by the handfuls… It would have given Eyeless fits. There was a living room and a kitchen, the wall between them full of jagged holes. There was a doorway to what looked like the tiniest bathroom Boy had ever seen and near that was another doorway that had a woolen blanket tacked across it.

Boy made like Sherlock Holmes and deduced this was the bedroom where Liu and Hoody were passed out in. 

“Take a seat, take a seat,” Toby gestured to the err… chairs made of piled wooden pallets. “Sit back my kleiner Freund, and tell me all your secrets, hopes, and dreams. I shall gaze into my,” here he patted at his pockets frantically till he found a marble, “crystal ball and tell you what they mean for your future.”

“You’re totally nutso, you know that?”

“I do my best. Or my worst. We should have wurst for breakfast, you hungry? We can cook up some grubs and talk about last night and go over the best ways to set things on fire, but I don’t recommend the grubs in this place because we ain't no lion or piglet to be going around eating that shit.”

Boy had missed this. The complete and utter nonsense that constantly tumbled out of Toby’s mouth in sporadic rivers and trickles. If you were lucky you could keep afloat in the puddle of gibberish but one mis-step and that puddle would turn out to be an ocean and you were in over your head.

But if Toby could be here, digging through a red and white cooler full of sandwich supplies… why couldn’t Jeff?

“That’s what got you frowney facey? Check for mustard, I needs my mustard, and there should be some pickles. Jeh-fuh-fuh is under house arrest at the moment and Masky is keeping him on a short leash. I wanted to get a bell for the collar but no one ever listens to what I say so I-”

“ _Jeff_ is under house arrest? _Why_?”

“He got mouthy about the plans for this summer and since he wasn’t going to be able to help anyways, Masky decided to pull rank and keep him home. That’s why Louie’s here!”

“Because Jeff’s grounded?”

Toby waggled his hand in the air. “Ehhhh it’s complicated for sure. But don’t worry your pretty little head about it, we got things covered! A low simmer for ten minutes and everything is hunky dory. We should get a fishtank.”

“You’d eat them,” Boy pointed out. Or Mimi would. He blamed her love for flashy colors and jewels on the girls, which reminded him he did still owe Susan a small ruby ring that glittered like fi- no. That was school stuff. Change the topic.

“True. BUT! Wouldn’t that be fun to have on a teeny tiny grill? I’ve seen hamster sized grills on the internet, we could make one just the right size for a minnow and teeny tiny forks and knives and we should get teeny tiny charcoal and make a video and become internet sensations!”

Toby paused with his arms hanging in the air and Boy could all but see the rusty cogs of his head slowly grind to a halt. Boy waited it out.

“Anyways. Barbecuing. We want really big and flashy flames, more eye catching than damaging to get things rolling. There’s a local charity for this sort of thing with some empty housing nearby, so we know where the family will run off to for a few days. Once they’re settled in you’ll just trip-trap over the bridge and eat all the green grass.”

“...did you just call me a goat?”

“Maybe.”

Setting a house on fire was a lot more difficult than Boy had thought, enough to fill a whole chapter in the binder Eyeless had sent along. Wood fires, gas fires, electrical fires, smokey fires, invisible fires, flash fires.. Toby made it look so easy!

Boy just liked flames!

Obviously, he was going to have to use an accelerant to get a big flashy fire that people would notice and run away from before it got too dangerous. Unless they were stupid. That was always a concern, stupid people and their lack of survival instinct, but most people would run away from the flames if they were big enough.

Toby had brought two giant cans of gasoline just for Boy, and he’d show him where to splash it around for the best show. The binder also held a floorplan of the house, which meant someone had broken in to take a good look around beforehand, and.. well.. This was a depressing amount of homework when he hadn’t even touched his school stuff yet.

“Nah, you just never bothered to stick around when things got onto paper. And it’s not as much as you think, it just looks like a lot ‘cause of the special paper Eyeless uses. Just… go through all that and we’ll talk later.”

“Later?”

“Yeah I’ma go take a nap. You’ve stolen Hoody for ages now and I’ve missed him.”

Yeah Boy could understand that. He’d slept beside Liu’s the first few nights in the Motel because it was nice to be near someone familiar. Liu hadn’t minded, he’d been awfully cuddly in fact. Kept petting Boy’s hair. And Hoody had-

Oh.

_Oh._

_That’s_ what Hoody had meant when he asked if Boy wanted to fool around. He was asking if Boy wanted to have sex, not if he wanted to go out and play tag! Boy had been so thrilled to be able to leave the motel, he’d not even considered the question as a euphemism.

“Well… fuck me,” Boy said to empty room. That was pretty embarrassing wasn’t it? He was a teenager going through puberty for fuck’s sake, he should have caught on immedietely. Even if he had though, Boy was pretty sure he’d still have chosen to go out anyways, because Hoody was… Hoody. Nothing sexy about Hoody. The whole face-mask thing and not being able to see his expressions weren’t Boy’s thing at all.

Nev-

No. He should go outside. Everyone was asleep and they were in the middle of no-where, as long as he kept an ear out for cars he should be perfectly safe in looking over the yard. Yup. Pack up the cooler and tuck the binder under an arm, he was tip-toeing out of here.

Only because it would have been rude to make a lot of noise, what with nothing but the mayflies and Boy’s breathing to break the stillness as everyone else slept. Even outside there was only the sound of wind in the trees and some birds and it was very, very peaceful. 

Too peaceful. Considering what he’d spent the night doing, it felt like there should have been more of a fuss going on right now. Maybe a cake. There’d been a bigger celebration over him losing the training wheels of his first bike for gods sake! Now he was all alone with himself and the dead air and a fleet of pages to read for homework. How fucking rude. 

At the back of the Crack House he found Toby’s truck. It was as battered as ever, but with the windows rolled down for fresh air it was a comfortable place to hang out while he read. Tried to read. His Braille was a little rusty and his mind kept wandering off into stupud directions. Like how he needed to teach Neville Braille when he got back to the school, that would be fun. No, more than that- it had the potential to be fucking hilarious, all sorts of weird messages could be left around and no one would know any better!

Or would Morse Code be better? Noisier unless they were sitting right next to each other and Boy cou-

No. Focus. Boy closed his eyes to get a better grip on the words dotting the pages.

Middle aged family with a teenaged son. The son wasn’t expected to be home at the time the fire was scheduled for, the little rebel with his new smoking habit and friends with bad attitudes. He was going to have a real quick change of mind once Boy was done with the family, but of course if the son wasn’t home Boy couldn’t kill him since the fire was part of the process…

“Neat. Another witness. I can do that. But how do I…”

A five year old was one thing. A fourteen year old was another. But if they didn’t get stationed in a motel but a place with multiple rooms… easy as pie. Kill the adults, tie up the kid. Boy nodded to himself and flipped a few pages ahead, to see what else Eyeless thought he should know about this. 

No family dog, it had passed away a few months back. No habit of dinner parties, but rose early in the morning for work which caused the early bedtime, yadda yadda… Jeez, how long has it taken Eyeless to put this together? Usually he’d just tell Liu what to write down, putting together a whole report in Braille seemed like a lot more effort than it was worth. 

A lot more effort for Boy too, cause it was taking him forever to puzzle together the more complicated sentences. What did Eyeless think he did at school all day? There was no wizarding Braille as far as Boy knew so he was a bit out of practice and Eyeless had to know it!

When Liu came to get him with his brown hair fluffing up in all directions in silly ways, Boy just glowered at him instead of poking fun. “Don’t you guys think this is all gunna be hard enough?”

“No.”

“Why are you such an asshole,” Boy sighed. He set the binder down and rolled over to fold his arms across the bottom of the window. Chin on his folded arms he glared up at Liu. “This was supposed to be easy mode, I’m still in the tutorial! What the fuck happened to baby steps?”

“Little brother, this _is_ the easy mode. Wait till you have to go out on your own and find your targets, doing everything from scratch. Suck it up and come back inside so Toby can go over the floor plans again before he leaves.”

Boy swatted Liu’s hand away as he tried to tug on Boy’s hair, specifically a short piece that stuck out of the side of Boy’s head like a broken spring. The rest of his hair could be tamed by a braid or ponytail, but that one short piece refused to grow out. 

“Yeah yeah.. “ 

Still asholes though, Boy decided. Even the ones who weren’t present though not for the same reasons. He left the windows rolled down, Toby liked the feel of the wind whipping through, and the noise. Even if he was playing the radio ‘cause he’d just crank everything up louder until he had to be absolutely quiet.

Liu draped an arm over Boy’s shoulders as they walked back around the dilapidated shack of grunge, and when Boy glanced up at him suspiciously, Liu just smiled faintly. 

“What?”

“Nothing. Just looking forward to the next few weeks. You know, we used to live like this. Constantly on the move, camping in isolated areas for a couple days at a time. It’s nostalgic.”

“...you’re weird.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it was also very stressful and tiresome. Having a permanent base is a far better option in the long term, in regards to getting some rest, but..” Liu paused a moment. “...it had its moments.”

Huh.

Nope.

Boy liked his electricity and hot water. BEN must have spent most of his time trapped in his console, poor guy, before wifi became a thing.


	4. Murderous Sequels

Setting his very first house on fire had been… okay. 

The gasoline had _reeked_ and Boy hoped he’d be able to use something else to use as a accerant later, because holy fucking god that stuff had all but burnt off the inside of his nose. Mimi had complained too though she’d been thrilled at her job to set it off with a few well-spat sparks. He’d had to stick close to make sure the house did indeed burn enough that his victims had to flee the premises. And that he actually did have victims to follow too, would have kinda sucked if he’d killed them in the fire. Not only would it have marked them as unworthy of sacrifice, but it’d make him have to start all over again.

A trifle boring to watch from a distance, not being able to cook any marshmallows or set off fireworks… but instant gratification was for babies and snakes, not for Proxies with important jobs to finish.

Which, by the way, Mimi had done her part beautifully, and Boy had complete faith in her ability to hone her skills further to help him create a story that was perfectly demonic and worthy of Slender Man’s attention. Not even a fake demon master would be willing to take on the legendary Slender Man, so there was nothing to stop that part of the story...

In Voldemort, however, Boy didn’t have so much faith. The albino was still purely eye candy at this time but they were working up to him having a bigger role. At some point. Maybe. Voldemort was just so fucking lazy and other than his constant picking at Boy over his eeeeeevery move, all the giant snake did was laze around to watch the festivities. 

Or, in the case of tonight at House #2 where the family had been relocated, the giant snake tried to stare down the already hysterical teenager tied up in the bathroom.

See, the ritual they were piecing together demanded that Boy only kill those touched by the flames. As expected, Junior deciding not to be home on Hellfire Night had thrown a wrench into things, but it was something Boy was going to have to learn to work with in case it happened in the future. Not being able to kill and not wanting him loose to raise the alarm, all boiled down to the poor thing getting ambushed in the dead of night while sleeping on the rented couch in the living room. Gagged, bound, and dragged off to the bathroom because really those were the safest rooms to lock someone in for a while, they rarely had windows that were large enough to crawl through.

Hadn’t been all that hard really, kids today just didn’t exercise enough to put up a good fight.

Neville would have kicked a much more impressive fuss, even if Boy could still take him down pretty easily. Presently that is, he had hopes to one day get Neville to the point where winning would actually be in question. _Then_ Boy knew he could try bringing Neville home to the lion’s den without him immediately dying… which would be nice, you know?

It’d suck pretty bad if Harry had spent all that time roughing Neville up just to lose him on the first night home.

And cleaning up would be a hell of a lot easier with an extra pair of hands, especially when one didn’t dare use the actual shower. There was something about being naked behind a shower curtain when the police could show up at any moment that had Boy deciding to try a sink bath instead. Stripped down to his underwear and scrubbing at the blood with a washcloth, Boy wondered if it was sliiiightly a little overkill to actually roll in the blood puddles like Voldie kept saying it was. 

“Don’t suppose I could trust you to wash my back?” he idly asked the teenager still tied up. Boy had shoved the guy into the shower stall to make more room, but he could see the dark hair from the corner of his eyes and found himself chatting inane things in the guy’s direction. Not that he would or could respond as things were.

“Gunna have to start bringing a clean-up bag I guess, a change of clothes or something. Good thing we’re close in height huh?”

There was only a muffled moaning coming from the shower, and Boy shrugged a shoulder as he tried to get as much blood out of his hair as possible. Another reason to chop it all off but he didn’t want to endure another school-year’s worth of scolding. It was long enough to get into the sink and wring it out, so that could be an argument to let it stay long actually. Boy tied said long hair up into a bun and told himself to make sure to take it down before he went outside to the car- Hoody would never let him live it down. Ever. Boy would go to his grave with the words HIPSTER! ringing in his ears. 

Hair out of his way and re-dressed in the borrowed clothes, Boy padded over to the shower to check on his not-victim. Still alive thankfully, hadn’t vomited into his gag and choked to death. Still awake too, though his eyes were glazed and unseeing. Crouching in front of the kid, chin propped on a hand, Boy wondered why he didn’t have the urge to kiss him. Dark hair, blood smeared on his face from the ambush…suddenly, Boy missed Neville terribly. Hopefully he was doing alright against the old hag of a grandmother… 

Neville would never look this pathetic, Boy decided, and snapped his fingers in the teen’s face till the kid looked up at him. 

“Hey don’t look so terrified, I’m not gunna kill you. Promise! I can only kill people my Lord tells me to. But.. I can’t just let you go either, you’re a part of this now. So let’s talk about _our_ Lord and Savior, SsssSSSsssss.”

Gathering his things later, his boots and knives and such, Boy thought the talk had gone rather well. The kid was thoroughly traumatized but some of the information Boy had told him should stick. Voldie flaring his hood and hissing at dramatic moments had helped. Maybe. Might have hindered things in the opposite direction, a brain can only take in so much awful info before it shut down completely.

Though Boy carving the spiral sigil into his forehead might have been the absolute last straw, fainting was alright in this instance because Boy hadn’t brought any anesthetics with him. It’d been a last minute idea! Inspiration had struck! Dammit another thing to add to his clean-up kit, but he’d found some bandaids in the bathroom cabinet to clean the kid up a little. 

“Think I should have carved it in the littler one last week?” he asked as he closed the bathroom door. Shut the light off too, let the kid get some rest. 

Voldie grumbled in his ear, but reluctantly disagreed. “ _Nonsense. You let her go unharmed because she had the luck of Snakes with her. Harming her in any way after that would have gone against your chosen ritual. I wonder what you will do when it is an adult you must contain, rather than a child._ ”

“Maybe next time. We gotta do one more before going underground, so the third time’s a charm.”

Boy was in a good mood as he wandered through the little rental house. Much more room to play in than a single hotel room, and bloody snakes danced down the hallway walls towards the living room where it was a smeared mass of more signs and sigils. And bodies, because Boy had dragged both the adults to the living room in order to gut and drain them dry. It might have been worth the waste of blood if he’d just lopped off a few limbs and carted them off like firewood… or paint tubes. Corpses were such a nuisance to move with floppy limbs and dead weight. 

“Jars. Gotta pack some jars. Goddamn I’m going to make a whole grocery list..”

Eyeless would be able to give him some tips on what supplies would be most transportable… yeah. Why hadn’t he thought of all this for the first event? Because everything was smooshed together in one tiny room and he’d had a semi-base just down the walk. Branching out was really opening his eyes to the supplies he was going to have to start packing. Which was the point he supposed, to learn what he wanted and needed to do.

Homework sucked but atleast this was more hands on than stupid essays. 

Only thing he had to grab before sauntering out the back door was Mimi. Last he’d seen her, his baby was nosing about the wooden floorboards of the living room and talking about pretty patterns. She’d not, Boy discovered, been talking about the woodgrain of said floor. Oh no, Mimi had taken it upon herself to slither and twist and loop around the gutted bodies leaving scorch marks until it looked like a massive anaconda had taken a jaunt through the house. Impressive how she’d managed the parallel lines..

And in the red-light of his eye, the only light in the entire house at the moment to keep the neighbors from getting too suspicious, the bloody lines almost looked as if they were _moving_.

“Hmm…”

Boy tilted his head to the side and considered the mess for a moment before he got an absolutely brilliant idea. Using his pocket knife to gouge deeply into the floorboards, Boy added highlights here and there to give it some depth. Smudged some blood there for shadowing. A single eye to stare unblinkingly at the wall covered in messages.

It was glorious, if he did say so himself.

“ _I am.. impressed._ ”

Boy rolled his eyes at the begrudging tone, but smirked nonetheless as Mimi snuggled into his neck with a satisfied squeak. “Thanks Old Man. Now let’s go.”

He came thiiiiis close to forgetting to untie his hair before getting into the car, and by the side-eyed look from Liu, the elder boy had caught sight of the bun. Didn’t say anything, but he knew and Boy knew he knew and Liu knew… yeah you know the routine. 

Hoody missed the pointed looks between the two as he was busily checking his mirrors and the road before turning the car on to drive away. Headlights left off for the moment, just in case. 

“I’m gunna need jars. And some brushes. I like using my hands but it’s not very efficient, especially if I’m gunna be pressed for time.”

“Good point. Wouldn’t hurt to have something on hand for a quickie,” Hoody agreed. He checked his mirrors again and after a few turns without a soul in sight, finally turned on the headlights to see the road better. “But don’t give up hope my fluffy little Duck, I’m sure most of the time you’ll be able to play around to your heart’s content. But right now we have bigger things to consider- where do you want to go?”

Boy rubbed at his left arm, sliding his fingers up the sleeve off his coat to scratch absently. He needed to kill another set as fast as possible to make it crystal clear this was no one-off thing. Before he vanished for 9 months for another school term, he needed to make sure he really stuck in people's minds. 

You know… while he was thinking about it…

“I wanna do a coastal town. We’ve not been to the beach in years and it’d be cool to see if the fire will reflect off the water. Think we can find a house right on the shore?”

“I don’t doubt it. Any arguments?” Hoody tossed the question to Liu, their resident Grim Reaper of Fun.

“None from me. Drive on Macduff, and take the next left.” Of course Liu would have a road map in the glove compartment, and he easily found the right roads to lead them towards the coastline.

“...gawd you’re boring,” was Hoody’s reply before he took the turn.

Boy winced and withdrew his hand from his sleeve, finding blood under his nails. Shit. He glanced at the front seat and finding both boy’s absorbed in their driving and reading, stuck his fingers in his mouth to lick away the evidence. He had no desire to end up wrapped in duct-tape like Toby did on his bad days, because everything was fine. He was just a little itchy that’s all. 

Ne-

“I wanna build a sandcastle,” Boy blurted out. “or a sandsnake. I wanna leave the biggest sandsnake ever on the beach near the place that gets burned down. Won’t that be cool? Really freak people out won’t it?”

“Sure, why not. We’ll find some shovels when we get there.”

“Cool!”

Voldie could bask in the warm sand, Mimi could haunt the local sea-life, Liu could.. be Liu. Read something while Hoody and Boy tried to drown each other.

“Hey, hey, remember when Toby nearly got ate by a shark while trying to prove there weren’t any sharks around England?”

“There aren’t, that was a freak incident that only someone like Toby could pull off.”

“Ahuh.” He’d let Liu continue to believe that. Boy knew perfectly well that sharks infested all waters everywhere and water that DIDN’T have sharks had flesh eating horses with rot issues. Fire, good. Water, bad. “...are we there yet?”

“Bitty boy, if you even try to start that nonsense I will pull this car over and stuff you in the trunk with my dirty sneakers. Try me. I dare you. I will do it.”

Ah, right. Boy was stuck with the _boring_ brothers. He heaved a sigh and slumped down in his seat. Voldie took a weight off his shoulders by slithering off into the box on the other side of the backseat, lined with a blanket that came with a battery pack and temperature settings. 

“ _You_ still love me right?” scritching Mimi under her chin and getting a happy squeak. One more murder and then they could go home. It was almost time to go to Diagon Alley, too. He should be able to wiggle that in without a problem, Masky had promised he could see his friends after all.

Just a few more days and then he could see Neville.


	5. Feed me Seymour!

Ravenous, Boy ordered a breakfast platter from the bartender as he waited for his friends. These days it felt like he was _always_ hungry. He knew it wasn’t easy to get a lot of new supplies when you were three teenagers on the move, trying to stay unnoticed, but… ugh. He missed Eyeless. All the junk food from the mini marts was starting to make him feel greasy and he was pretty sure the danger of scurvy was hovering on his horizon.. Maybe rickets. Eyeless would know the right disease for his vitamin-lacking bones, Boy would have to ask him later.

Anyways.

Thankfully, he was early and had pleeeenty of time to wolf down the plate of eggs and sausages and pancakes and fuck yeah, fresh coffee! Oh how he had missed fresh coffee from a real pot. Harry was looking forward to getting ice cream with his friends later, but mmmm… perfection in a cup. And since he was so thoroughly enjoying himself, of course that meant someone had to come along to interrupt his bliss. Someone who took one look at Harry sitting off by himself and glared.

It was amusing to note that Neville’s face looked a LOT like Masky’s when Toby and Jeff came home hours later than they should have, and Masky was just waiting to hear their excuses before beating the shit out of them. Well, he’d give Jeff a good whollopping, there was no point in corporal punishment for a guy like Toby who couldn’t feel pain. Nah, Toby just got put under severe house arrest until he was a ball of spastic, stuttering nerves.

But that was them and they usually deserved it. Harry didn’t deserve it, look at him behaving so nicely for the normal people!

“You were supposed to meet me on the bus,” Neville growled with a dark look at the still-chewing Harry. Neville had a firm grip on Cujo’s collar as the big black dog leaned forward to sniff at the air near Harry’s plate of succulent meats.

Ohhhh. Right. That had been the plan a few months ago.

Harry tossed the dog a sliver of sausage to distract him while trying to swallow enough to get a few words out. “F’mly thig.” He coughed and tried again. “Family thing. I was barely able to get away from them ‘cause we went on another trip, and we were going through London on the way home so I sort of just.. hopped out. Want some?” He went for a winning smile as he held up a forkful of egg for Neville.

Neville glared at him, and for a moment Harry was sure he’d refuse.. But nah, Neville leaned forward and took the bite right off the end of Harry’s fork with a viscous clack of teeth. If Harry had been holding out his hand he was pretty sure he’d have lost a finger or two, and that made his grin grow even wider. 

He was less pleased, however, when Neville took it upon himself to sit down and start munching on the rest of Harry’s breakfast right off the plate, and Boy nearly growled at him.

“That’s _mine_!”

“And I’ve been waiting for you since seven this morning. Deal with it.”

...alright, fine. So long as Neville didn’t get slap-happy, Harry could deal with it. Because he was a kind and lovable person, he raised his hand to flag down his waitress and ask for another platter. Oh and more bacon. Could he get another jug of syrup? Awesome! 

“Did your brothers not feed you all summer?”

“Fuck off, I’m a growing boy.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Neville snarked. 

Was.. was that a Short Joke? Was Neville _mocking his height_ while eating Harry’s pancakes? Eyes narrowing, Harry-

-cursed as Cujo wedged his head up under Harry’s arm and stole a sausage link. 

“Fucking bastard! Who taught you your manners? Dammit Nev! I’m gunna-”

Neville kicked him, quite hard in fact and Harry’s head snapped up. Ah. They were in a public place and people were starting to stare at them. The waitress, breakfast platter and coffee pot in hand, was giving him a look he usually only saw when he said something really, really dumb. 

“...he’s very sorry, won’t do it again.” Neville now, he could smile and make it look perfectly natural and soothing. He accepted the plate cheerfully, and nodded at her until the Waitress seemed satisfied. Suspicious, but satisfied as Harry ducked his head down and tried to look repentant. It usually worked better when people couldn’t see his face, though Hannah swore Harry wasn’t on the ugly side of the spectrum..

He hadn’t tried asking Liu or Hoody yet, he had a feeling the conversation would go oddly.

Maybe he should ask Neville? He was pretty sure Neville thought he was cute. But then Neville would be pretty biased wouldn’t he? Harry would have to ask later, after he’d finished off his breakfast with as mild and meek of movements as possible. As meek as stabbing a pancake with a knife and fork could be that is. Nom Nom!

“Are you even going to want to have lunch later?” Neville wanted to know, as he started in on his own. He’d been up since the crack of dawn for this jerk, breakfast was the least Harry could do for him right now. 

“Yush. I wn’t ish cream.”

Cuj stuck his head onto Harry’s lap and stared at him with big eyes, but Harry wasn’t having it. He absolutely did not kick the dog again but it was a less than gentle shove at the beast, making Cujo sigh heavily and sprawl under the table to mourn his ill fate. Harry caught Neville frowning at him when he finally looked up and tried to defend himself, “he shouldn’t be begging for food!”

“No it’s fine, he deserves it,” waving that aside with an impatient flap of a hand. “But are you feeling okay? You sound a little hoarse.”

“Oh. That. Well... uh.... you know how I can talk to snakes?”

“...I’m not going to like this, am I.”

Later, Neville would condense the long winded and complex story to single sentence for Susan and Hannah. “He picked a fight with a cobra while on Holiday, he’s fine.” That the cliff-notes version would be so easily accepted by the rest of the Hufflepuffs would leave Harry too offended for words, but for now, it was just him and Neville (and Cujo and the rest of the pub but that was ignorable) and everything was good.

Delicious even.

“S’ho how wash the shummer? Weren’t you getting lesshons from the homishidal uncle?”

Terrible annunciation aside (he blamed the pancakes) Harry was actually curious to know. Wasn’t it last Christmas that Neville said he was gunna get dueling lessons from his Uncle Algie? The one who’d tried to kill him a couple times as a kid? Rude ass bastard…

Neville smirked into his cup. “I’ll tell you later. Finish your breakfast.”

Well-made, kitchen-cooked food… or finding out what Nevill head done to his Uncle? Harry was honestly torn. But it’d also be rude to make Neville talk when he looked as hungry as Harry was.. Fine. FINE. Harry could be patient. Ish. He was absolutely squirming with curiosity when Neville finally put his fork down and wiped his lips with a napkin. After a pointed look, Harry did the same for his own face and then hands because he’d been using the leftover syrup to doodle swirly snakes on his plate.

“Now?”

“We should go, we’re meeting Susan and them at Fortescue's, right? We don’t want to make ‘Auntie Amelia’ wait for us if we hope to not be under her watchful eye for the rest of the day.”

Harry groaned in disappointment, but pulled all the coins he had out of his pockets to shove them at Neville. “Pay the tab then. And we should hit up the Bank if you think we’re gunna need more, ‘cause I haven't gotten any of my supplies yet either. I should get a credit card.”

“A what?” Neville scooped up the silver sickles to count them out, shaking his head. “What will you do when I can’t be here to play as your accountant?”

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “Hunt you down and drag you to where I need to buy things. What else? You’re stuck with me, don’t pretend otherwise.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The run to the bank was fun as always, a wild trip on the Goblin-cart to Harry’s trust fun. Cujo was just as delighted as Harry, both front paws on the front bar and tongue lolling out. A firm hand on his collar kept the mutt secure in the seat, though Neville was sure the Goblin wouldn’t have minded losing him in a sharp turn.

The piles of gold were intimidating, and Neville wondered if the trust fund he wasn’t allowed to see was just as well stocked. Probably? The way his Grandmother went on with things, he’d be full grown before he saw a single-

“No you dumb mutt, stand still!”

-gold coin being stacked on Cujo’s head. 

“Harry, gold is heavy.”

“Yup. Think it’d be easier if I just gave you my key? Do I really have to keep track of everything myself?”

Putting Cujo’s incoming headache aside, because the dog knew how to handle himself and let Harry know if he hated it, Neville had to laugh. “Harry, there’s a fortune of gold here. You can’t just hand over your vault key like it’s nothing!”

“I trust you.”

It should have been grab-and-go, they had people to meet and ice cream and a full day of shopping and fun to have. The others would be excited about the coming World Cup, and Neville was curious to see if they would try to contain themselves because Harry and Neville weren’t going, or toss all manners aside and babble incoherently over the matter. Neville should have filled a small pouch and reminded Harry of this. But at the same time.. with the Goblin waiting outside, this was the first time all morning Neville had Harry all to himself. No witnesses. And if Harry was going to make statements like that to warm Neville’s heart..

Harry made a small noise when Neville hugged him from behind, an inquisitive hmm? while so studiously trying to add coin number 13 to Cujo’s head-stack.

“Uncle Algie gave me one lesson in dueling. He was the most pompous ass you could have ever heard about it, you would have either laughed at him or set him on fire.”

Harry’s second ‘hmm’ was very agreeable. Those were both good options when facing a pompous ass.

“He told me to try my best, because he was a trained adult and could take anything a little boy could throw at him.”

“Heh.”

Neville tucked his nose against Harry’s warm neck and with his arms around Harry’s waist, there was no other word for it but ‘snuggling’.

Harry cursed as Cujo tilted his head back, sending the coins down his back like a gleaming waterfall. Leaning back into Neville’s embrace, he asked “so then what?”

“I distracted him with my Patronus before throwing him across the room with a generic blasting spell. Broke all his shields.”

“God, I love that thing.”

Neville nodded minutely. He was rather fond of his Patronus too, mad little eyes and all, but best of all for that particular moment- calling a Patronus was not only a super difficult spell but also the most blatant of Light spells that no one could accuse him of being evil over. Any other spells, especially if he’d tried it wandless, could have backfired on him on so many levels, and he was so tired of being accused of going dark.

That his Patronus was a snarling, drooling American Badger was besides the point. A Patronus was a Patronus and they were sacred.

And it was just too funny that Harry couldn’t cast one. Point for Neville.

Harry started squirming and Neville released him, hands sliding away with reluctant slowness. 

“When Susan’s bitching about being late I’m telling her it’s your fault. Are you done yet? How much gold do you think we need? I want my ice cream! There’s a candy shop in Diagon isn’t there? Or is there only Honeydukes in Hogsmeade?”

“We explored top to bottom last summer and you ask me this?”

Harry flapped a hand at him. “Cujo! Get your lazy ass in the cart, we’re leaving. Get out before I shut the door on your tail. God you’ve gotten fat.” 

The Goblin threw them a nasty look as they finally exited, and soon hurtled them towards the Bank floor at speeds that sent the cart bouncing up into the air with every tiny bump. The trip down had been fun. The trip up was...not. Cujo whined heavily as he tottered off the cart, legs splayed to find balance. There was an amusing tinge of green to Harry’s face and he leaned heavily into Neville. 

“Petty, pointy-eared, rock fucker…” Muttered only for Neville to hear.

Neville scowled but carefully didn’t aim it at any creature in particular, but grabbed Harry’s arm to tow him out of the bank. Harry allowed it, and though his fingers itched to throw some rude hand signs at the Goblins, he only snapped his fingers to get Cujo’s attention so all three of them could stumble out of the overly ostentatious building. 

“If you throw up on me I’m leaving.”

“Just take me to the ice cream parlor you jerk. I deserve a treat after all that.”

Ice cream, yes. He really, really wanted that ice cream, Treacle flavored! It was the best remedy ever for queasy stomachs, ”Scouts Honor!” he swore to the more dubious looking Hufflepuffs as he dug into the treat. Auntie Amelia had left only moments before Harry and Neville had arrived, likely thinking that even without Harry and Neville, the group was large enough to stay safe.

“ _Scout’s_ honor? Who’s that?” Ernie looked to Justin who shrugged helplessly. 

“Just because I was raised Muggle doesn’t mean I understand what he says any more than you do. I think it’s an American thing?”

“He’s _British_.”

“You sure?”

Harry refused to acknowledge the accusing glances sent in his direction, entirely focused on his ice cream. Plate of pancakes with sausages and eggs and bacon and toast and coffee, yet he still had room for the treacle treat? Amazing. “You gunna finish that?” Pointing a spoon at Justin’s dish.

Justin moved it out of Harry’s reach with narrowed eyes. “I don’t share food with traitors to the crown.”

“Won’t you be a traitor too when you immigrate to the Wizard’s side of things?”

“I.. but… that’s not..” Justin stared off into space, with the funniest expression of perplexity Harry had ever seen. Before he could needle the boy any further about his future plans of living as a Wizard or living as a Muggle, Hannah started poking at his head. 

“Back off Lady, I have ice cream and I’m not afraid to dribble it on your robes!”

“You already ate it all. I wonder why this piece hasn’t grown out? Perhaps we should get you more hair tonic.” ‘This’ being a short chunk of hair that stuck out of the side of Harry’s head. Being about two inches long, it was far too short to get caught in a ponytail or a braid and it annoyed her. It looked like a thorn. “Maybe we should cut it shorter?”

“What’s this ‘we’ thing? Concentrate on your own rats nest!”

Leaning around the bickering pair, not a hard thing to do with Roger’s height, “any sign that your Grandmother might change her mind? You still got a week before we need to know for sure.”

Neville shook his head, laying his spoon down on the table with a soft clink. “No. She won’t either, so you might as well ask someone else. I’m grateful for the offer though, thank you.” He didn’t regret missing out on the World Cup, but he did sort of regret being unable to spend the time with his friends. “Anyways, I got some experiments going on in my Greenhouse I want to keep an eye on before school starts. They’ll all be withered away by the time I get back for Christmas-”

“Yule.”

“-so this is all the time I’m going to get for them.”

“Oh? Anything fun?”

Neville shrugged a shoulder, unconsciously mimicking Harry’s movement. “Just some Fanged Geraniums. Trying out different fertilizers and such, as an extra project for Herbology.”


	6. I want to play a game

_“Speak.”_

Neville dangled the unhappy mouse by its tail over a Fanged Geranium, keeping the rodent just out of reach of the toothy jaws. Only when the plant stopped whining to bark sharply did he drop the creature into the plant's mouth and watch it chew with happy grumbly sounds. The next plant was much more amiable, and barked on command the _first_ time to receive its squeaking treat.

There was a huge difference between the Fanged Geraniums in this box and the one behind Neville. The others got ground-up bone meal and generic plant food. These ones got their food alive and wiggling, and Neville carefully noted the changes. Not only were they bigger, but their colors were more saturated. The dainty pinks and lavenders and greens of the generic plants deepened into crimson and plum and emerald. 

Much prettier.

Also much more aggressive, towards Neville’s hands and each other, so he’d had to cull a few to put more space between the toothy plants.

Their teeth were not only bigger, but sharper as Cuo quickly learned to keep his tail out of range. Neville had the idea that the ones given living prey to feed on were more intelligent too, thus the training. There always had been rumors of a witch who had trained her Geraniums to bark in synchronization, had she also deviated from the well-known care instructions?

Neville moved on to the last Geranium and paused thoughtfully. Rather than feeding the last mouse to a whining plant, Neville tossed the rodent to the side without bothering to see if Cujo caught it or not. The snapping of teeth and gulping sound were proof enough for him. Now, Neville dug his hand into the loose soil where the Geranium SHOULD have been and dribbled the dirt through his fingers. Still moist from his earlier watering, the hole that had encased the roots was opened heavily off to the side, making it look more like a trench than a hole and Neville knew exactly what had happened. He didn’t even have to follow the trail of leaves and dirt.

Further back into the corner behind the box, half hidden behind a stack of empty flower pots, was Neville’s other experiment. He couldn’t even call it a Fanged Geranium anymore, this thing was a monster of a plant with huge teeth and a malevolent hiss as Neville came closer. Strands of greenery were stuck in its yellowed fangs from the cannibalization of it’s smaller sibling and Neville sighed.

“One way to get rid of them I guess..”

He’d have to do something with all his plants before school started, since he couldn’t just leave them to wither and rot in the Greenhouse without attention. Feeding them to each other had not been his first plan, but.. if it worked. 

“Better question is, what am I going to do with _you_?” The switchblade opened with a soft snnnick, and Neville looked it over carefully to make sure it was clean. Grabbing the second basket, he opened it up to reveal the half-grown rabbit trying to moosh itself into a corner. Pressing the sharp blade against the flesh under his thumb, Neville dribbled the welling blood all over the back of the young rabbit till he decided it was well seasoned. A teeny tiny healing spell later and the cut vanished. 

He’d started off using a needle to prick his finger but those few drops only worked for the first week or so, until the plant had outgrown its seedling pot and started to wilt. Cutting his thumb open to the bone had not been… the best of ideas either, blood had splurted everywhere until Neville healed himself, and though it had caused an astonishing growth in the Monster Geranium, going from the size of Neville’s fist to the size of his head in one day, it wasn’t something Neville could do too often.

Using a rabbit also put a bit of distance between Neville and the plant after it started snapping at his hands in its eagerness to be fed. Combining the fresh meat with the human blood was just flat out more convenient in the end. 

Which brought them to this point, the rabbit squealing and kicking when lifted up by the scruff of the neck and Neville held it just out of reach of the Monster Plant.

_“Speak.”_

Cleaning up afterwards was nothing more than stowing the pet baskets under a bench and wiping his knife down with a clean cloth. Tucking it into a pocket and whistling for Cujo, Neville rolled his eyes as he caught the dog lifting his leg against the Monster’s isolated planter. Cujo was still holding a grudge against the plant when the baby seedling had nipped at his nose.

“I don’t even want to think what the effects of that will have in the future. C’mon, we got things to do,” after checking the time.

Dog quietly walking at his side, Neville could have kicked himself for worrying. Harry hadn’t even blinked at his request to keep Cujo a little longer, perhaps because it proved he was right that Neville did need the stupid mutt. Perhaps it was because Neville rarely asked for a favor and this was such a small one. It could also have been that with Trevor gone, Neville could claim Cujo as his one pet and now the dog could come back to school with them. He even had the written permission from Professor Sprout if anyone protested. 

So in light of all that... it’d been silly to worry that he might have to part with the crazy beast. 

A House Elf met them at the door, wringing her hands and bulbous eyes staring up at him. “Mister Neville is late for dinner! He is! Missus Augusta says Mister Neville is to eat in his room since he is being so rude!”

“Yeah, yeah, just put it on my desk. And bring a bowl for Cujo.”

The bat-eared creature glanced at the dog and all but broke her own fingers she twisted them together so hard. Without acknowledging the request, the House Elf vanished with a small CRACK.

Neville smirked. 

Sure he’d told Cujo to eat the House Elf, _once_ and hadn’t even meant it, but the dog was to the Elf what the Cerberus had been to an eleven year old Harry,before it had become a flattened puddle on the floor. Massive and perfectly capable of biting off a limb in one snap. Having Cujo’s snapping teeth inches from her nose had resulted in a very long, very boring scolding from his Grandmother but the Elf hadn’t bothered Neville or his dog since then. So all in all it’d been a success don’t you think?

Other than Uncle Algie’s one-time lesson in dueling, and the mentioned scoldings that seemed to last for years at a time, Neville was left completely and utterly alone to do as he pleased. Long sunny days and cool misty nights spent either in his greenhouse experimenting on his plants, or reading in his bedroom. 

It was so peaceful he could vomit. Who would have thought he’d miss the chaos and headaches of school?

Neville opened his bedroom door and closed it firmly behind himself once Cujo’s tail had cleared the threshold. A tray of covered dishes nearly covered his desk, and when he lifted the first dome he found a thick roast beef sandwich with some grilled vegetables. Thankfully, the second dome had a bowl of cubed meat chunks for Cujo or Neville might have had to throw a fit. That bowl went to the floor by the window, while Neville sat at the desk to take a large bite of his sandwich.

The Elves might not be happy with him but they were still proud enough of their cooking skills to feed him decently. 

Sandwich in one hand, Neville pulled open a drawer to rummage through the papers. “Where is..” He nearly had to put the sandwich down before his fingers brushed against something that made his brain buzz in the back of his head. 

It was obviously some sort of Dark Magic. It was obviously dangerous. Neville didn’t have to read the diary page by page to know this, he could feel it in his bones as he held it. Cedric had told him that the book had helped him, given him confidence in himself, and Neville believed Cedric thought that was true. Maybe it was. But he also knew that the buzz he got in the back of his mind, that dull watchful throb, was very much like the feeling he got when Harry was asleep practically on top of him. 

Not THAT feeling, though it could get awfully difficult some nights to sleep when Harry decided to throw an arm over him and then a leg and his breath would ghost over Neville’s neck and..

Moving on. 

There _had_ to be a connection. Between the Dark Magic in the book and the Dark Magic that seeped out of Harry when he was deeply asleep and completely relaxed. A low buzz that haunted the back of Neville’s head like… something. He couldn’t describe it. And now it was almost comforting to have the book close at hand, there’d even been a couple of times when Neville had slept with it under his pillow, usually when things had gone truly awful with his Grandmother. 

Like the lecture after Uncle Algie’s ‘lesson’.

Or when Neville had refused to visit his parents on his birthday, that had been a fun one.

He finished his sandwich without really tasting it, wiped his hand off on a napkin, and left the tray over by the door to focus on his plans for the evening. After everyone went to bed (though did he really need to with so few people around? Not like anyone would come looking for him after all.) Neville and Cujo would go out to the garden and.. see what happened.

Maybe he should leave Cujo in the bedroom? Harry would kill him if anything happened to the mutt. 

Neville eyed the black dog and he swore Cujo eyed him right back with an air of _‘just try to leave me behind, dipshit’_. Damn dog was just too damn smart for his own good, it gave Neville goosebumps sometimes. Though it was always hilarious how Cujo would go sit out on the balcony no matter the weather if Neville started thinking of Harry a little _too_ fondly..

The details of the ritual inside the journal were scant, mostly questioning where to get more info or what to use, but reading between the lines gave a vague impression of what the Author had chosen to do. Only on the very last page was it pretty damn clear _something_ had happened and it had _worked_ , whatever it was. Again, not by the words themselves, but by how they were written- the quill tip had been pressed so deeply into the page that even if the ink ever faded, the message would have been loud and clear. The shaky handwriting had straightened, the letters were huge. 

And the mark covering a full half of the page? Neville had seen it doodled a million times on scraps of parchment and the backs of homework and even on a plate using smears of pancake syrup.

_There was a connection_ , and Neville was going to find out what it was if it killed him. Which… it very well might?

Though Harry would kill him if he died, Harry might _not_ kill him if Neville proved beyond doubt that Harry was right, that Neville wasn’t a nobody to be looked down on.

So… yeah. 

Neville chewed on his lower lip and decided that if he was going to try to summon some sort of.. _thing_.. from the Void and beyond, he should be truthful with himself once and for all. He wasn’t doing this to prove to Harry, or his Grandmother or anyone else out there, that he was worth a damn, it was for himself and no one else. Harry didn’t deserve someone who doubted themself, and Neville wasn’t going to stand by and let his own insecurities keep Harry from being happy.

To quote his favorite bundle of insanity, fuck _everything_ about that.

Now that that was settled, Neville pushed away from the desk and stuck the little book into his robe pocket. He collected some of the loose papers from the same drawer and stared at his wand for a long moment before sticking it in his other pocket. He’d try not to use it, but he wouldn’t not use it if things went badly. Use every tool on hand, just don’t depend on them. Same for the switchblade.

Cujo was already waiting by the door as Neville pulled his cloak on, and the pair of them went right back to the Greenhouse as if they’d never left. The Geraniums were all asleep now, though there was a new hole in the large planter, and the Monster was looking entirely too self satisfied. 

“Should just call you Harry Jr and be done with it,” Neville muttered. The lights overhead were dim, it was pretty late after all and the plants didn’t like having their schedules changed, but Neville checked the soil to see who needed watering and who didn’t. Who could use a dose of antifungal spray, who needed to have their vines clipped again because they were growing like a weed

Outside the Greenhouse it got dark.. and then darker…. and then it was time. Neville sucked in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. 

Using the switchblade, much like he had earlier during the feeding time, Neville pressed the tip of the sharp knife into his forefinger. Then instead of letting it drip onto the plants or the ground, he used his bloodied fingertip to trace a circle and then a slanted X over each of the pages he’d brought with him. Eight pieces he’d torn out of Harry’s sketchbooks, every inch of the thick paper covered in idle doodles and rough sketches and even calligraphy drills. Some overlapped, some had a band of clear space around them like a moat, but they were all Harry’s and the blood that seeped into the paper fit right in. 

“I’m insane. We both know this, right?” looking down into Cujo’s big eyes. The dog woofed lowly and Neville swore he was rolling his big brown eyes at him. “Yeah, I know. Alright, let’s do this then.”

Stepping out of the Greenhouse, Neville headed for the large ‘Guest Garden’ where the hedge maze grew. It covered nearly an acre of land with huge bushes that towered over Neville’s head. There were hidden passages through vine curtains and statues tucked away in dead ends.. What could be more perfect for what looked like a mere Hide ‘n’ Seek game on the surface of things? 

It wasn’t too late. He could go back to the Greenhouse. Or the Manor, and go to his room and put everything away in his desk and go to bed and pretend everything was fine and normal and alright.

Hah. Like hell. It was now or never, and Neville threw the papers up in the air and let them scatter in the wind. The book may have had little to say on what to do for the ritual, but Neville had caught on pretty early that there wasn’t any such thing. All you had to do was _want_ it enough and it would come. With a staticy charge to the brain, sending you running for the hills knowing that if it touched you, _game over_.

Neville fled into the maze.


	7. Back to Basics

Pain was a good thing, it said that whatever just happened- you were still alive to appreciate it. 

Boy did like being alive, very much so, but what he didn’t care for was the explosion of _oh my fucking god that hurts_ before the adrenaline kicked in. Nor did he care for the part afterwards when things calmed down, only for the stab wound in his shoulder to start singing ‘Ava Maria’ as a reminder that it still existed. 

“Hold still.”

“It hurts!”

“It’ll hurt less if you’d hold still.”

“But it _hurts_ ,” Boy whined. And wriggled. And squirmed. And when Liu went ahead and poured half a bottle of peroxide on the open wound, Boy clamped his teeth shut against a screech of utter betrayal to writhe against the couch cushion till most of the liquid was mopped up by a bandage.

Liu prodded at the bloodied flesh some more and nodded his head. Picking up a small case out of the much larger First Aid box, he prepared a needle and sterilized thread for sewing Boy’s shoulder back up. All the while ignoring the sullen glare from Boy. 

Still, Boy could have acted a lot worse. Look at Jeff for an example. Masky and Eyless literally had to box him into a corner and pin him down to check out his jaw. You’d think Jeff was the younger one with how _he_ was acting, Liu should be grateful Boy was such a well behaved brat!

“Not how I was expecting to spend my evening,” Liu commented idly as he stabbed the curved needle into Boy’s skin and drew along the thread. He probably should have been using tweezers but Liu was an old hand at this and used his fingers. Boy decided not to think about the germs. 

“He started it,” with a mulish tone that made the corner of Liu’s mouth twitch.

“I suppose he did. But did you really have to kick him in the face? When we have to get through tonight?”

“He stabbed me! It’s his own fucking fault! And he’ll get all healed up after Slender’s hunt _anyways_ , so what’s the big deal?”

“Same could be said for you,” Liu pointed out very reasonably and Boy settled into a sulky silence.

Boy was gone almost the _entire summer_ , and he finally got home to relax and spend time with his brothers before he had to go back to school for _another_ handful of months, and what did Jeff do? Instead of being happy to see his littlest baby brother who adored him? Stabbed him in the fucking shoulder because he was a fucking pyscho who needed some serious fucking therapy. 

Once the Stich-n-Bitch meeting was over, Masky dragged Jeff to the couch and forcibly sat him down next to Boy. The pair of them, arms sulkily folded across their chest and glowering up at the tall teen, made him pinch the bridge of his nose with a hand and sigh. “Alright. You,” pointing at Boy, “no kicking people in the face. And you,” now to Jeff, ”don’t stab the people who actually like you. Talk this shit out before I start knocking your heads together. Capiche? I don’t have time for this shit right now.”

Grey hairs, so many grey hairs. Masky was going to need to upgrade his mask to cover his entire head soon, because he was going to be grey and bald within the next few weeks if something didn’t give. The Cult Kills, Slender Man, keeping an eye on the news, keeping track of.. _everything_.

Liu and Eyeless, packing the medical supplies back into the huge tote, left the room and Masky would soon follow. First he had to point another stern finger at the sulking pair with a- “Talk. It. Out. You’ve got an hour.” He met Jeff’s glare and held it until the Killer teen glanced off to the side, and only then did Masky leave them to it. 

The room filled with the staticy buzz of a TV without a connection, the white and grey screen flickering angrily. Boy didn’t want to break the silence because he was pissed off but from the corners of his eyes he noticed that Jeff was slowly hunching in on himself and that didn’t bode well. 

“You’re my brother and I love you, but you are such a fucking asshole,” Boy sighed.

To go with his words, Boy unfolded his arms and scooted across the couch to lean up against Jeff’s side. He ignored the low growling and pressed in harder, even as Jeff tried to viciously elbow him in the stomach.

“I didn’t _ask_ for you to be here,” Jeff bit out.

“So? I missed you, you fucking jerk, so shut the fuck up and deal with it. I wanted to tell you all about the cool stuff I did over summer before I have to go back to that goddamn school, so you should be fucking nicer to me.”

Boy was pretty sure he cursed more when around Jeff. He’d definitely mostly stopped at Hogwarts except for special occasions, but it felt more natural to swear vehemently around home.

Jeff huffed and half turned. Before Boy could complain, too much, Jeff lifted his arm and wrapped it around Boy’s neck. Leaning backwards and pulling the brat with him, Boy was half sprawled over Jeff’s chest as they both squirmed to get comfortable on the couch, feet stretched out to the other end. 

This, Boy thought, was much better. Much closer to what he’d had in mind when he’d first hunted Jeff down to talk to him, rather than getting rudely rebuffed and pushed away by knife point.

“Was that so hard?” sulkily.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeff repeated his earlier words. “You should know better than to ambush me.”

“ _That’s_ your excuse?”

Jeff snorted, dragging his other hand through Boy’s hair. “You’re getting too fucking big to do this. You’re not a baby anymore. People will get the wrong idea.”

“I’ll never be too big. I’ll be dead and rotting in a ditch before that day comes. And what people? Only people here are our brothers and they all know better even if you are screwing half of them.”

“Half of… you got a big fucking mouth for a little boy. What the fuck has that school been teaching you?”

“Not a fucking thing.”

“S’that why your arm’s all wrapped up in tape?”

“....I’d rather talk about you stabbing me.”

“I’d fucking rather _not_. Why did Liu mummify your arm in duct tape?”

“I’ve been a little stressed. And _you stabbing me_ isn’t helping.”

Boy sent a prayer to the Slender Man that he never grew taller than Jeff. That would suck so much, because if he was taller than Jeff then he really would stop letting Boy cuddle up to him. That would be heartbreaking and it didn't help Boy’s anxiety just thinking about it. Neville had tried to ask him about his arm but Boy was pretty sure he’d skillfully evaded the question without making Nev too suspicious. 

He just.. he itched. And this time it was just general stuff, nothing to give him a clear target to focus on like Ron had done. 

Jeff continued to pet him, for lack of a better word. Roughly, but it was still a comfort. Soothing. Boy could feel himself start to relax and settle in more comfortably. Jeff smelled like blood and rain, he always had, for no reason that Boy could think of. The rain part, that is.

“Soooo… about the stabby stabby…?”

“Fucking christ you don’t give up do you? You kicked me in the face for it, and Eyeless had to pop my jaw back into line, isn’t that enough?”

“No. ‘cause you stabbed me.”

“I stab everyone. Do you hear me complain every time Liu shoots me?”

There was a long, heavy pause and Boy put as much _I am heavily judging you right now_ as he could into his silence.

“Shut the _fuck_ up, Brat.”

Boy tried to hold back a laugh but ended up snorting it out his nose as a rather peculiar sound. Rubbing his cheek against the soft material of Jeff’s sweatshirt, he tried to school his grin back into a petulant sulk. “Most of the time you just punch me if I surprise you, and that’s only been in the last few years. Am I really getting too big?”

Ah, there it was. Jeff’s hand spasmed and the fingers tightened their hold on Boy’s hair painfully. As long as he didn’t move his head he shouldn’t lose any more hair but… Yeah, he’d expected that reaction. He knew Jeff better than Jeff thought he did, and Jeff did not like being reminded Boy was getting older. 

“This Cult thing is really kicking off. Like, I’m growing fucking scales. Not a lot and just along my scar really, but it’s a sign that things are working this time. So that’s a good thing I guess. It’s been a lot of fun and I learned a hell of a lot, especially when I had to do it all on my own.”

“It won’t always be on your own,” dismissively. “Once you’re concrete, someone can tag along and help out. If you want them to.”

Boy wanted. But not in the way Jeff might be assuming. Chewing on his lower lip, Boy wondered if now was a good time to bring it up. He was a legitimate wanted criminal now, and people were out for his head on a pike, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He understood a little better now, Masky’s stance on knowing who was where and why he’d get so upset if people weren’t. If you don’t know where your partners are when things blow up, how do you know they’re safe? Boy knew that this new clarity meant he’d never try to sneak away for a day in London ever again, but..

Where did that leave Neville?

“But what if they weren’t..” he started and stopped to chew on his lip some more.

Slowly, the tight grip on the back of his head released and Jeff went back to petting him. More with the flat of his palm now, less of a chance that way of getting his fingers caught in the tangled strands and yanking more out. And surprisingly, Jeff started talking first and while it wasn’t exactly related to what Boy had tried to ask, it was enlightening.

“Me an’ Toby, we’re partners. Partners in crime that is, because we both love making a fucking mess and doing it together is _fun_. Masky keeps out of it, and he might say it’s to keep the chaos controlled to one place, that the buddy system is perfectly safe and shit, but that’s only part of it. Masky and Hoods, they know if they tried to go along they’d want to tamp it down and make it more reasonable or something that could be easily hidden. That’s not the point. That’s not _our_ point. So we go off and slaughter a couple people and burn the whole fucking place to the ground because that’s what we _need._ ”

“I kno-”

“Eyeless though, we’re partners in a different way. He’s..” Jeff squirmed uncomfortably and Boy could hear his teeth grinding together. “...he’s a rock. He know me like the back of his hand and knows when to be fucking quiet and when to be a fucking nusance so that I’ll get out of bed and not lay there till I rot. He’s steady and reliable and that’s fucking great. Most of the time.”

Okay, so that was a new thing. Boy couldn’t imagine Jeff without Eyeless, but actually thinking about how it worked between them he’d not stopped to consider.

“Liu is a completely different fucking matter, and I don’t think he hates me anymore but at the same time we can’t stop picking at each other like we’re the biggest goddamn mosquito bites you’ve ever seen. And.. yeah, fine, some days we get a little more... okay... with each other than other days. He’s a fucking prick but he’s there if I need him. Got me so far?”

Ear to Jeff’s chest, Boy could literally hear the agitation in Jeff’s heartbeat. “Yeah, I got it.” Maybe.

“Okay. So what I’m saying is, if you want someone to go with you to do the.. whatever it is we’re calling it.. Sacrificial Rites, then who goes with you is up to you and what you want at the time. You want someone to keep you calm, take someone rational. Want someone to play with, take someone else. We all have our roles and we fucking rock them.”

“What about.. uhh…Laughing Jack?”

If Jeff was uncomfortable talking about Eyeless, and more so about Liu, then L.J. had to be the absolute limit of Jeff’s frayed rope. The rapid heartbeat under Boy’s head said not to push the issue but after all these years, Boy was genuinely curious. 

“Laff likes to play head games.” _End of fucking discussion_ was the unsaid part, which was maddening because that answered absolutely nothing and Boy rolled his as hard as he could without actually moving.

What came to mind even so, were spider webs. All the connections spinning off to meet each other, some at odd angles and some of the connections doubled up, but connected nonetheless. All leading back to the center, towards the Slender Man, but without the web there would be no center at all so every connection mattered no matter how faint it was.

“So, to continue this goddamn maudlin fuckery, what _do_ you want?”

Ah. Now that it was Boy’s turn to confess, he found himself turning squirrely and looking for ways to get out of it. That wouldn’t have been fair though, so he should man the fuck up and face the firing squad and just say it. Toby had Masky and Hoody, Jeff had Eyeless and Liu, so there was nothing wrong with needing his own support system. He just needed to cough it up.

“Neville. I want Neville.”

He had to smile as the growl vibrated through Jeff’s chest. 

“You’d like Neville. I think. He watches my back like Eyeless does for you and he tries to make sure no one bothers me. He’s… awesome. I just gotta keep reminding him he’s better than the rest of the stupid kids at school. He’d fit right in if I just... got him here. ”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Will not!”

“Stab him through the fucking eye.”

They had been having such a nice talk too, the bastard. Boy didn’t even think about it before he turned his head and bit Jeff right over the collar bone. Had to add enough force to get through the sweatshirt but he knew he’d made his mark when Jeff cursed and shoved Boy off his chest to the floor.

“What are you, a wild fucking animal?”

“You stab Nev and I’ll.. I’ll..!”

“Send Laff to Germany again?” 

Boy scowled at the snarky comment. They were never going to let him forget about that no matter what Boy did, noooo. Let’s constantly remind him he tried to mail Laughing Jack to Krampus one year and pissed off the Slender Man. Pushing himself to his feet, he glared at the smirking Killer. 

“That’s not funny!”

“Oh it is, believe me, it fucking is.” Jeff stood up now himself and grabbed Boy’s shoulder to wrestle him into a too-tight hug. “We all get hurt, you fucking Brat. Doesn’t matter who you bring home- they’re gunna get stabbed. Or set on fire. Or hung by their heels over the third floor balcony cause that’s what we _do_. So whoever you decide to bring home, whenever you decide to do it, just remember- they better have some fucking good life insurance.”

“Asshole,” grumbling but Boy brought his arms up and hugged Jeff back just as tightly. 

“You fucking know it. So how the fuck are we smuggling your boy-toy home?”

“He’s not a toy..!”

When Masky checked in on them and found them cackling like the hyenas straight out of Lion king, the masked teen just sighed. “Get out here and help us check over the roof. If Slender’s going out tonight to play with a Wizard then we better make sure no one’s going to fall through the roof again.”

“Awww, but Toby’s corset was so shiny and pretty!”

“I’ll remind you of that when you get gutted by a bedpost. Now move it.”

Boy stuck his lower lip out but untangled his legs from Jeff’s and stood up obediently. Jeff on the other hand sloooooooowly sat up, sloooooooowly swung his legs off the couch…. and didn’t move another fucking inch. Just stared at Masky with challenging eyes that didn’t look away this time.

Connections right? Boy cocked his head to the side and watched them, trying to figure out their connection. Masky was bossy and Jeff hated to be bossed, so how did that work out?

Ah. Like that. Masky grabbed the Killer by his already bruising chin and spoke lowly, enough so that Boy who was lingering by the door couldn't hear what he was saying. He could only watch as the grey haze around the eldest Proxy darkened before Masky pulled Jeff up to his feet using only the hard grip he had on Jeff’s lower jaw, thumb digging deep into a scar.

“You will fucking _behave_ tonight. Got me?”

Taking the sulky silence as an agreement, Masky let the Killer loose and shoved him towards the door and Boy. “You two are going to be the death of me, I swear on Slender’s tentacles. Didn’t I tell you to git to the roof? Go!”

Boy stuck his tongue out at him before darting off. He wondered- how _did_ the Slender Man know when a hunt was going to happen anyways? Could he sense the intention or something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> Don't scream too much friends, we'll get back to Neville and the aftermath of his game in the next chapter! :D


	8. Good Intentions

Harry was feeling pretty damn good once he strolled through the train station barrier with his trunk and backpack, away from the attention of the Normies. The ‘normal’ side of the station had felt a little strange, watchful, as if everyone was on the lookout for him and his new status as a Wanted Criminal. Masky had laughed at him and chucked him under the chin like he was a little girl and told Boy that as long as he didn’t _act_ suspicious no one would _find_ him suspicious. 

Which… well yeah. _Obviously._

As if Boy hadn’t been hearing that pretty much all his life, the whole Fake it till you Make it thing he’d told Justin about… fuck, years ago. That wasn’t the point. Masky was in SUCH a good mood which meant he was more playful, but his sense of humor was just downright bizarre sometimes. Strutting like they were on a catwalk was not _anti-suspicious_ , it was _more_ suspicious, thank you very much.

But back to Harry and _Harry’s_ good mood once he could relax in the empty station... He was well rested, well fed, and had had a lovely time with his family before being cruelly chucked out into the cold. Scar felt a little tender but his shoulder was completely healed and all his later hard-won bruises and cuts had healed well too. AND he’d gotten to make a HUGE bonfire last night! It had burned for hours! So this was a perfectly wonderful day to spend with his friends and Neville before the school tried to rot away what few brains he had! WHOO!

Therefore, Harry wasn’t prepared at all to get slammed up against the compartment door by a wild-eyed Neville the moment he slid the door closed.

“Hot.” 

Not the time for humor it seemed, as Neville leaned in close to Harry’s face and not for a kiss.

“Why the _fuck_ didn’t you warn me about that book?”

Oooo cursing. Harry liked it. But uh… “Umm… which book?” cautiously. This was Neville after all, so Harry wasn’t that inclined to fight him off or anything, not while the poor guy looked super upset over something. Sure, Harry had brought some gruesome fairytales to school once or twice, and hadn’t he already given a warning about that…?

Neville growled at him.

“Oh! Oh… shit. The diary?” The one Cedric had nabbed? That’s right! Only a few months ago on the trip home, Cedric had given Neville the little journal made to introduce Slender to the Wizards! Was this why Boy had felt so antsy during Slender’s hunt? 

“Yes the fucking diary! What the hell, Harry!”

“In my defence, I didn’t think Cedric would go pawning it off on you,” with a small, but very relieved laugh.

For a moment, Harry was sure Neville’s head was going to spontaneously combust in a shower of fire and brain matter. With a hand on each shoulder to pin him against the door, Harry watched Neville struggle with himself. When it looked like Neville’s rarely-seen temper was about to get the best of him, Harry brought his hands up to clasp Neville’s forearms, “Hey. Hey! Nev, you _survived_. Don’t you know how amazing that is?” He couldn’t help the giddy little smile, because he’d been dreading this for what felt like ever, and now it was done and over with? Just like that? Wow.

“You _won_. Against the _Slender Man_ , oh my fucking god..” That was.. None of his brothers could complain about Nev now, _none_ of them. Not even Masky and Hoody had exactly _won_ against the Slender Man, however long ago. Survived, yes, but not won the game!

Neville was _awesome_ and Harry fought the urge to yell I TOLD YOU SO with a gleeful little laugh.

However, Neville didn’t look nearly so pleased... At all. In fact he looked downright furious, his jaw clenched and cheeks red. Those adorable big brown eyes were glittering but Harry had to assume it wasn’t with love and adoration. Or even a passing friendliness.

Harry felt his smile start to slip off his face. “This… this is a good thing Nev. Swear. I-”

“Shut up. _Shut. Up_. I am not speaking to you right now.”

Neville closed his eyes tightly and leaned into his hands. Harry knew without a doubt that his back was definitely going to be mottled with bruises from the door fittings, especially that bar right across the small of his back, but this seemed super important and Harry was pretty sure he shouldn’t start whining just yet.

“You’re a Dark Wizard,” Neville whispered. “You’ve been one all along.”

Curbing his first response of ‘thought you weren’t talking to me?’, Harry replaced it with a slightly better but still pointed- “I never thought of myself as a Wizard in the first place?” 

Dark, Light, whatever the miniscule difference was, he preferred Eldritch over all of it. Which.. alright that was considered pretty Dark, no matter the society. Hannah had said as much, the time Harry had shared some particularly gruesome tales with his friends. Funny how often Demons came up in the older stories, wasn’t it? Dark magics, all of it, but Harry just called it fun.

“Shut up. Shut up. _Shut up._ ”

“Are you having a nervous breakdown? You should prob’ly sit, I’ve got a candy bar.. somewhere. Need some chocolate, or.. uhh… Breath mint?”

Neville dropped his head to rest it on Harry’s shoulder, which wasn’t exactly helpful because Harry couldn’t see his face and gauge how serious this breakdown was. Was this a laughing hysterically sort of thing, or the kind where you needed to burst into tears and sob uncontrollably? He’d seen both kinds, and the mixed one where you laughed AND cried. Oh, there was a fourth one too where you got pissed off and started screaming and ranting and raving about how fucked up everything was and it should all be burnt to the ground because _fuck this world_.. 

Boy tried to gather his scattered thoughts back to here and now where Neville was presently having an existential crisis. Which yeah, he could _sort of_ understand because the Slender Man was a force of nature and could take a lot out of someone when he was calm. Slender Man on the hunt was a whole ‘nother level of stress. And he couldn’t even give Neville a hug because he was pinned to the goddamn door like a bug.

Instead, all the comfort Harry could offer was to nuzzle his face against the side of Neville’s head, breathing in the herbal shampoo that smelled of freshly cut grass. Oh hey, an ear. Without thinking about it, when did he ever think about it, Harry bit down on the sensitive skin. 

Neville jerked away, and while that helped ease the pressure against Harry’s back now that he could lean away from the door, he had the feeling Nev was still upset with him rather than comforted or properly distracted. Taking a look at Neville’s flashing eyes, Harry quickly decided maybe an apology would be more appropriate.

“Umm… I’m sorry?”

“About what?” Neville spat back. “Me nearly dying? Me nearly losing my soul to some creature who would twist and warp it into something monstrous? What exactly are you sorry for?”

“..biting you?” Harry answered in a smaller voice, feeling his shoulders hunch up around his ears as the tirade continued. Lesson learned- don’t try to be cute when Neville was mad. 

“Biting- _Harry_.” Neville stepped back again and ran his hands over his head, digging nails into his scalp. “Harry. I.. can’t. I can’t deal with you right now. I’ve given you my friendship, given up on most of my morals, and lost not a little of my sanity to make sure I was always by your side. Why wasn’t that enough for you?”

“I don’t.. you _are_..”

“Harry, I nearly lost my _soul_. For _you_. All I wanted was to prove I could be your best friend and that I wasn’t going to be dragging you down, and you couldn’t even _warn me_ what I was going to summon. If I had died would it have even mattered to you? Am I just a toy for you to play with?”

“NO!” Harry felt his face go icey cold as the blood drained from his cheeks. He lunged forward to grab Neville’s arm and cling to it with both hands. “No! You’re important! You’re the one I need with me all the time but you _can’t_ unless Slender approves! That’s how it works!” 

While attempting to wrench his arm free of Harry’s grip, Neville stumbled and slammed the back of his knees against the bench, legs buckling as his balance was lost and he ended up crashing down on the plush seat. ‘Like he was about to ask for tea’, his mind supplied hysterically, which made no sense in any context much less this one. “And that meant you had to let me nearly die at the hands of some.. some _demon_? How are you any better than my family _who also tried to kill me_ , to force me to be someone they wanted?”

Fuck. It was exactly the same, wasn’t it? Neville’s Grandmother and Uncle put Neville in dangerous situations to force him to be better and prove he was magical. Harry had wanted Neville to face Slender to prove that he was worthy to stay with them, the Proxies, at Slender’s castle.

In that light, Neville had every reason to be furious, especially with Harry who had always been very vocal in his contempt for Neville’s unsupportive relatives. And now, Neville didn’t want anything to do with his family. He sneered at the very mention of his Grandmother. If Harry had just acted as she had, would that lead Neville to leaving…? Never speaking to Harry again? Ever? 

The very idea of such a thing, to lose Neville who was now part of Harry’s family, fried every circuit in Harry’s brain with sheer terror, something not even the Boggart last year had managed to do.

Harry panicked, throwing himself forward to wrap his arms around Neville’s shoulder in a tight hug. This put him squarely on Neville’s lap to pull it off, but he clung as desperately as a drowning man to a buoy.

“NO! I wouldn’t ever hurt you like that! I just wanted you to come home with me and if you acted like you weren’t as good as me they’d eat you alive ‘cause my brothers are hunters and if you acted like prey they’d treat you like prey and I didn’t want you hurt!”

It was amazing that Harry managed to get all that out on one breath, even as his voice climbed higher and higher as the hysteria slowly took over. Gasping for air, Harry pressed his face into Neville’s neck, trying to slow his breathing enough to keep apologizing and maybe convince Neville he wasn’t as terrible a friend as Neville had to be assuming.

“Slender let you live and that means you’ll be under his protection forever, and Slender never, ever goes back on his word! I promise! I’ll behave, I’ll never make another journal ever again if you want! I _need_ you ‘cause I’m made of Chaos and Chaos needs to have a Neutral or without you I’ll go insane! Like Eyeless and Jeff and Toby and Masky! Please, please, _please_ don’t leave me!”

The fear in Harry’s voice as he babbled had Neville reflexively wrapping his arms around him in an equally tight grip. Neville wanted, oh he wanted _very badly_ , to push Harry away and punish him for what he’d put Neville through, but he couldn’t help, even in his anger, to try and comfort his best friend. Brother.

Neville didn’t stop the bitter smile from forming on his lips where Harry couldn’t see it. He’d faced a.. _thing_ … right out of the stuff of Nightmares, but here he was- soothing away Harry’s hissy fit. As usual.

Hadn’t Neville always protected Harry? Against Ron, against the Gryffindors, against his Grandmother.. But when he had needed Harry most? _Harry hadn’t warned him._ He’d seen Cedric give Neville the book, he’d obviously known exactly what the book entailed, and yet he couldn’t be bothered to say anything. Not even so much as a ‘be careful’, or a ‘good luck’, and that hurt. A lot. They’d be discussing that later, oh yes.

As thought after thought circled through Neville’s mind, he realized he had to make a decision. Right now. While he was still so angry he could punch Harry and actually mean it. Did he want to push Harry away, tell Harry to never speak to him again, or could he push past the anger, and yes fear, and forgive the one person he’d almost _literally_ given everything for.

The person that just... wanted Nev to stay by his side? Forever?

Neville closed his eyes and ground his teeth together, wondering why he had to be the sensible one all the time. Just once he would like to really let loose and not have to worry about consequences. 

Instead, he heaved a sigh and loosened his hold to rub his hands down Harry’s back soothingly, letting the smaller Badger sob into his neck and soak Neville’s collar. “You are in so much trouble,” Neville warned him in a low tone. “You are going to be paying for this for years. And you’re going to tell me _everything_. Got it?” 

“Everything,” Harry promised without looking up. “Anything you ask, I’ll tell you, no matter what.” Arms still around Neville as tight as iron bands, his fingers crossed a small x on Neville’s back and circled it. He’d done it before, many times as he swore a solemn oath to Hannah or Susan or Neville, but now it seemed to carry so much more weight and Neville swallowed heavily. 

“People will be arriving soon, you need to be quieter.” Last thing either of them needed right now was someone running in and catching Harry in tears. 

Although if Harry was much more clingy on the train ride out, none of the other Hufflepuffs commented. Shifted sideways to sit next to Neville now rather than on top of him, Harry had pulled his feet up onto the seat and scrunched up impossibly small against Neville’s side.

“He’s just a little tired. Got back from a long trip late last night,” Neville replied in his stead, patting Harry’s shoulder as the Badger pulled his hood low over his face. Hiding his swollen eyes, no doubt. “I heard about the fuss at the World Cup, and since you never wrote I assume you’re all okay?”

It was easier than he thought it would be to cool his words and keep his temper at bay. There was no reason to go snapping at their friends just because he was internally fuming at Harry.

Hannah smiled sheepishly, tossing her long blonde hair back over a shoulder. No braids, no ribbons, just a couple of hairpins to keep it out of her face. “I’m so sorry about that Neville, I thought Susan had messaged you and she thought I had written, and my mother was being so.. herself that I kind of lost track.”

“We didn’t even know what had happened till we saw the papers the next day anyways,” Susan grumped. “One moment we were all asleep, next moment I was being side-apparated to the Abbot’s manor. I didn’t see Auntie until the next night because she’d been so busy!”

Ernie nodded in agreement. “Colin was with my family, since no one thought it appropriate for him to stay with the girls, so it was the two of us, Justin and Roger, but with all my family around it was easy for the adults to grab and go. We _still_ haven't gotten our tent back, and my Uncle’s been awfully fussy about it.”

Justin turned to Harry where the boy was trying to become smaller between Neville and the side of the compartment. “You’ve mentioned going camping with your family, but you have GOT to see how Wizards do it. Their tents are full-blown houses! With bathrooms! With PLUMBING,” as he tried to lure Harry into the conversation. 

Hannah patted Justin’s arm when Harry didn’t even look up. “Let him have his nap. Neville, I thought I saw Cujo earlier with some nervous Firsties. I’m so glad Sprout agreed to him coming as your pet since you’ve lost poor Trevor, and I found the loveliest set of brushes for him while I was in Paris, you’re going to love them!”

Neville doubted it, but he supposed it never hurt to have a brush on hand without having to use his own. Or Ernie’s.

“Thanks. I’ve been letting him run wild at my place, so he’s probably covered in burrs and tangles.” There’d been no way Neville was going to spend an hour every night brushing the beast down, Cujo was going to be so happy to see Hannah when the damn thing bothered to poke his nose into the compartment.

He had to hand it to the dog though, Cujo had stuck by him the entire night when Neville had played with magic he’d had no right to play with. He could still feel the buzzing in his head too, like long tendrils wrapped around his brain.

But that line of thinking was only going to make him mad all over again and Harry was still acting like Neville had horsewhipped him instead of only yelling. There was something that felt suspiciously like triumph to know that a few nasty words from him meant more to Harry than a year’s worth of insults from the Gyrffindors. Atleast now he could start to understand where he stood with Harry, even if he’d had to face down an ancient horror to finally see it.


	9. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- A direct continuation of the last chapter, Harry is still feeling unsettled by the idea of Neville leaving him.
> 
> .

“Is it me, or do our Defence teachers get creepier every year?”

“No, you’re right, they’ve definitely been getting worse. I think Dumbledore is really scraping the bottom of the barrel now because it’s been what, decades since they were able to keep anyone long term?”

“Almost makes you miss Professor Quirrel, even if he did stutter.”

“Barring the fact he kidnapped Harry to steal from Dumbledore,” Ernie said dryly.

Justin considered that for a moment before nodding. “True. But he’d had the manners to wait till _after_ the exams to do so. Lockhart left mid-year, and Lupin was horrid to Harry _during_ class, so all in all you have to agree Professor Quirrel was the best of the bunch.”

“Huh… Hadn’t thought of it that way.”

Harry pulled the tie out of his hair and scruffed his head with both hands. Not really paying attention to the chatter as the boys got ready for bed, he decided it was a good time for a shower now that Roger had finished up. 

Harry didn’t… he didn’t feel well. He’d barely been able to touch his dinner, barely able to pretend that he wasn’t a tangled ball of nerves as Dumbledore announced the school-wide tournament and introduced their new teacher with the wonky eye. Neville wasn’t exactly avoiding him but he wasn’t exactly being friendly either, which meant Neville was still furious and it made Harry’s stomach twist to think about it. 

He wanted to go home. He wanted his brothers. He wanted Jeff. Jeff would have understood Harry’s anxious thoughts and helped him work through them because... Because Neville hadn’t actually said at any point that he wouldn’t abandon Harry, had he? He’d just said that Harry had to tell him everything. So even if Harry told him everything, Neville could still decide to leave.

Disregarding the fact Neville was in Hufflepuff now and couldn’t really go far, that wasn’t the point.

Harry grabbed some random clothes out of his trunk and scurried off to the bathroom with a muttered ‘out in a bit’ that no one would believe after all this time together and wasn’t that funny? Not really, but Harry could try to smile and toss a teasing remark later on if he had to. 

The bathroom held two showers and two bathroom stalls, technically there was no real need to wait till after everyone was done to take a shower _unless_ someone wanted some time alone. Like now. Harry turned the water temperature as high as it would go and let the room fill with steam as he began to pull his school robe and clothes off. 

Yelling and screaming his frustration wasn’t allowed, he knew the acoustics of the tiled room very well and he couldn’t let the other Puffs know what was going on. They wouldn’t understand and Slender wouldn’t like it. He was a subtle sort of guy and blatant tale-telling would upset him.

Harry didn’t need Slender upset with him right now.

Wait, did Neville know the rules? Had Slender talked to him? If Cedric wasn’t part of the group, allowed to live as the first test subject to spread the word, did that mean Neville wasn’t actually part of the family now? Wasn’t ever expected to be?

Harry was going to throw up. Yep. His stomach turned itself over and tried to claw its way out of his body through his mouth. It wasn’t until after he stopped gagging into the toilet bowl that Harry noticed someone was holding his hair out of his face, which was really nice because about to get into the shower or not, vomit in the hair was just awful.

“Just can’t take my eyes off you for a minute can I?” Neville muttered in his ear.

Later Harry would have to ask why Neville was in the bathroom at that time, but for the moment he was all too happy to lean back against the boy and cough.

“Dun’ make fun of me when ‘m sick.”

“But then we’d never talk at all,” Neville snarked.

Harry tried to roll his eyes but it pulled at the scar crossing his face. He was annoyed that it was still tender and sore even now. “You’re.. you’re just being mean to me ‘cause I didn’t tell you your reading choices suck.” Coming out much more pitiful than he’d intended. “Even if it was good for you, and will help you in the long run, and censorship is the _worst_!” 

“If I was being mean I’d just let you be miserable on the floor. Come on, you’ll feel better once you’ve gotten cleaned up.”

“Lies. Liar. You’re still mad at me. Don’t be nice to me if you’re mad at me because it gives me a false positive and I’ll-”

“I am not having this conversation sitting on the bathroom floor.”

“Then I guess we’re never having it!”

“You can be so… so….”

“Childish?”

“ _Belligerent._ ”

“You like it when I’m belligerent,” Harry muttered. He allowed Neville to manhandle him towards the shower with only a token protest in the form of dragging feet as Neville put an arm around his waist to propel him onwards. Harry was too worn out from not-fighting with Neville all day to be an outright brat, his head was throbbing like an iron band had wrapped around his head, and all he wanted was to cling to Neville and beg him to not leave. Never leave. Ever. 

What came out instead was a tiny, “are you still mad at me?” It could have been missed under the noise of the shower, but he knew Neville had heard him when the boy paused instead of pushing Harry into the steamed-up stall.

“I’m not m…. No, I _am_ still mad at you. I’m furious! This will take some time to get over, but,” and with this he gave Harry a small shake, “ _but_ that doesn’t mean we’re not friends. Don’t Susan and Hannah have little tiffs all the time?” Tiny bit of a difference between arguing over homework to arguing over nearly dying but… whatever.

“I’m _not_ abandoning you Harry. You’re stuck with me, for life.”

A sarcastic comment got stuck in Harry’s throat and he had to take in a deep breath to dislodge it.

Neville hooked his chin over Harry’s shoulder and sighed as he leaned into Harry’s back very, very carefully. The bruises were already fading but there were a LOT of them. “I’m _mad_. That’s it. I’ve been mad before, remember when you went on that date with Ernie? Or when you kept not meeting me at Diagon Alley when you were supposed to? I was mad those times too. But that doesn’t mean you need to go off and hide and _hurt yourself_.”

Before Harry could protest otherwise, Neville proved his point by grabbing Harry’s wrist and holding out his arm where they could both see the long, bright pink welts trailing down the skin towards his elbow. 

Ah. That. Right. Just when Boy had managed to get rid of the duct tape protecting his surprisingly fragile skin from his anxious clawing, he’d gone right back to it. He really needed to work on that, duck tape was supremely uncomfortable with it’s lack of flexibility and stickiness. Good thing Harry wasn’t that hairy, huh? 

Flinching as hot water droplets hit the sensitive welts, Harry tried to bring his arm back in close to his body to protect it. His lapse in confidence was rewarded by Neville shoving him completely under the spray of water. “Stop trying to drown me when I’m sick!” Wiping the water out of his eyes, Harry caught the soft snort. And something he couldn’t place but sounded awfully like something soft being dropped onto the floor. 

He wasn’t. Was he? No. Really? Harry turned around now, hands pushing his now completely soaked hair out of his face. 

Yes, yes he was. Neville was joining him in the shower now that he’d removed his robe. And everything else apparently, other than a braided black bracelet on his wrist. At Harry’s wide eyes, Neville snapped-

“Stop staring, we’ve undressed in front of each other plenty of times so don’t make a big deal about it.” Neville’s face was slowly turning the same unfortunate shade as a tomato, but the boy jutted out his chin stubbornly.

“Yeah but..” That was changing clothes. This was a shower. Together. “...I literally have no idea if this is because you’re worried I’ll injure myself or if you’re joining me because I’m that hot,” Harry confessed with a few rapid blinks. Until he knew, he had no idea how he was supposed to react to Neville pushing him back under the water and finger-coming the tangles out of his hair. There was a lot to untangle too, as once again it fell down between his shoulder blades.

“You’re not that hot,” Neville replied dryly. “This is me making sure you’re okay, because you’ve gone pale as parchment and your hands are shaking. This is absolutely _not_ going anywhere else when you look like you might throw up again.”

Harry tilted his head to the side, looking so much like a bewildered Krupp puppy that Neville’s glare softened into something more affectionate.

“Just let me take care of you for a little while, alright? Shut up and enjoy the water and stop thinking about it so hard.”

“Okay. I can.. ok.” Harry closed his eyes and let Neville have his way. It was easy to simply enjoy the light touches on his head and shoulders that soothed away the lingering headache. It wasn’t perfect, Neville had clearly never washed someone else's hair, and Harry _mostly_ believed him that the soap in the eyes hadn’t been on purpose...

Still. All the tension drained out of Harry, all the tangled thoughts in his head slowed, and it left him feeling relaxed and sleepy by the time Neville turned the water off. Leaning back against the warmed wall of the stall, Harry cracked his eyes open to look at him questioningly. 

“Stay here while I get some towels,” Neville muttered. If Harry hadn’t let his eyes drift shut again, he might have noticed Neville was avoiding looking at him. Or looking any lower than his face at least.

“Kay.”

Harry felt better. Much better. Sleeping cuddled up to Neville was great, but this was so much better in a show of absolute affection. Harry reveled in the feeling as a soft fluffy towel enveloped him. Hogwarts didn’t fool around with their towels either, they were huge and thick and softer than a cloud. The best. Leaning forward, Harry looped his arms around Neville’s shoulder and nuzzled his cheek. “ ‘m keeping you.”

“You.. uh.. don’t really get a choice in that.” There was a new, almost breathy, tone to Neville’s all of a sudden. He gently pushed the still naked Harry back, face flushing a rosey pink as he straightened his pajama top carefully.

“Hmm… maybe. You gotta.. you gotta come home now,” Harry smiled sleepily.

“I guess so. Meet the rest of your demonic family.”

“Nah’ demons.”

“Arms up.”

Had he fallen asleep and missed a sentence somewhere? Even as he wondered that Harry obediently raised his arms up. This got a t-shirt of a soft black material pushed over his hands and head and he was now half dressed. The pajama pants came next and Harry was befuddled enough to lift one foot than the other while feeling like a giant doll. His hair was still dripping water down his back but that was soon fixed with another, much smaller, towel gently patting at his head. 

It kind of felt like.. when he was super little? After a long night of games and arguing, he’d be half asleep on the couch when Jeff would decide it was too late for small brats and would carry him off to bed. Not for years now, but it had the same cozy feeling as Neville trying to tame his soaked hair.

“I’m not.. I’m not _doubting_ you..” he felt he should say. Not any more at least, because his brain had reminded him of something important- Slender knew what he was doing. He was an ancient Eldritch God, if he thought Neville was a security breach then nothing would have saved Neville no matter how well he’d played the game by Slender’s rules. Neville was alive, he was here, and he was promising to stay. Therefore Harry would answer any question Neville asked, no matter the topic.

“Hush.” Or not ask.

Harry hushed and let himself be sat down on the edge of the sink for Neville to brush and braid his hair. Should this have been weird? This should have been weird. Maybe for a normal person it would have been? But.. Boy liked having his hair brushed, even if Jeff could get a little rough. And Boy liked the attention and care from Eyeless when he was sick, while the older was just happy to coddle someone who didn’t fight him every step of the way. So Boy had absolutely no problem in letting Neville take care of him when he didn’t feel that well, but..

“Ernie’s gunna think we had sex.”

“That’s your fault for teasing him for so long. He _definitely_ thinks you masturbated in here every night.” Was Neville the only one who knew Harry wasn’t…? Huh.

“That was the point. I get a whole hour to myself with no one knocking at the door or yelling at me to hurry up.” Harry rolled his tongue over his teeth, watching as Neville reached the end of his hair and tied it off. “Hey Nev?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you come in the shower with me? I could have… washed in the sink or something.”

Neville nodded slowly. “I suppose you could have..” He played with the ink colored braid, letting it slide through his fingers “I could have left you alone to wash your face and brush your teeth, sure. But the idea of yelling at you and you going off to shred your arm because of it, makes _me_ feel sick to my stomach and I need you to be alright. I… need you. Much as you say you need me, I need you or my sacrifices mean nothing and I might as well kill myself.”

Whoa, sleepiness all gone. Eyes snapping open, Harry jerked his head up. “Don’t even joke about that! Ever!” Getting a half smile in return, “I’m serious! No dying!”

“I’ll promise not to kill myself, if you promise not to let me go summon an Ancient Evil without warning me first.”

“Deal,” instantly and without blinking. How many more Ancient beings were there for Neville to go poking at anyways? He had Slender now, no other demonic entities need apply. Ever.

Neville leaned forward to rest his forehead against Harry’s and close his eyes. Deciding that fair was fair, Harry tried to tidy up Neville’s own sopping wet hair, smoothing the much shorter and straighter strands back against Neville’s head, going by touch rather than sight as his own eyes slid shut.

The moment was absolutely perfect.

Aaaand then someone started pounding their fist against the bathroom door and Harry jumped so badly he nearly fell off the sink. “Mother fu-!”

“We’ll be out in a moment!” Neville called out, looking disgruntled by the interruption but a lot more calm now. “What were you saying about no interruptions again?”

“Must have been longer than an hour,” Harry shrugged a shoulder then grinned at Neville’s snort.

Side-eyeing Neville, and deciding since the mood had already been ruined and he might as well take it further, Harry continued with “Welp, there goes my moment to offer you a handjob.” He offered a cheery little grin to the glare he got in response. “Just sayin’. I would have offered if you were still looking a little stressed. Maybe next time?”

Neville dragged a hand down his face. “You’re an ass. Why do I love you? Let’s go before they send in Sprout or something.” Because he was curious to know if he could, Neville put his hands on Harry’s hips and lifted him down from the sink. Harry was heavier than he looked, but it was manageable. Good to know. For… you know, future reference. Or something.

Harry wrinkled his nose at the very idea of Professor Sprout in the bathroom and shuddered. 

Ernie gave them a long, judgemental look as they finally left the bathroom, which was rude because they were fully dressed and presentable and what more did he want? Harry stuck his tongue out at him and would have left it at that but Neville of course felt like he should defend their honor. His honor? Someone’s honor, Harry didn’t have any.

“It’s not what you think, Ernie. Harry hasn’t felt good all day and I didn’t want him to faint in the shower and crack his head open on the tiles.”

“Ahuh. Sure. Well hurry up, Susan wants to play cards in the Study Room to celebrate our first night without a curfew.”

Harry perked up, “no curfew?”

“No bedtime, he means. We still have a curfew,” Neville corrected. He pulled a blanket off the bed and threw it over Harry’s head to turn him into a wooly ghost. “Take that. We don’t need you getting sicker because you got cold.”

“Could just take another-”

“Move Harry.” Hands against his back and they weren’t Neville’s so had to either be Ernie or Justin, they propelled him towards the other end of the room and the door and the slumber party games that was going to leave them all miserable in the morning when they had to get up for classes. 

“I am sooooo hoping that Cedric will put his name in for Champion,” Hannah was saying as the boys trooped out, “won’t it just be the best thing ever if we have a Hufflepuff as a Hogwarts champion? Can you imagine the _expressions_ on the Gryffindors?”

“Slytherin would be better to rile them up,” Susan corrected, “but a Hufflepuff would be amazing. Show everyone that we are NOT doormats to be looked down on!” 

Ah yes, an evening discussing the dangerous tournament that Harry wasn’t allowed to participate in, instead of a quiet evening curled up with Neville to remind himself that Nev wasn’t planning to stop being his best friend and quasi-brother. Perfect. Why not. He loved his friends _so much_.

“Are we automatically bypassing a Ravenclaw champion?” Neville asked as he dropped onto a cushion on the floor. He pulled the sulky Harry down with him and stole the blanket to wrap it around both of them. 

“Nonsense, they’d be too busy making up charts and graphs comparing past tournaments and completely miss the deadline,” said Roger with a straight face, and for a moment they thought he was serious. Then his lips wobbled and Hannah’s giggling soon set the rest of them off.

Sitting between Neville’s knees, wrapped up in both a blanket and Neville’s arms, Harry decided he could live with this. If Neville was feeling better, then all was right in Harry’s world.


	10. Life and Goals

The next few weeks carried on in ways that were both mind-numbingly familiar, and newly strange. 

Harry was still being low-key harassed by the Gryffindors, that was all normal. No brawls so far but they had time. The Slytherins watched him closely, but when had that ever stopped? He’d overheard the Firstie Hufflepuffs being told that he wasn’t _nearly_ as mean as he looked, which was pretty funny but lacked the hilarity of being told not to get too close or he’d bite. 

Ahh, that had been the best. He couldn’t remember exactly who’d said that last year but he treasured it nonetheless.

Going over the previous year’s course work was per usual, but the teachers were suddenly cracking down on uniform infractions like the most prudish of nannies. Such as- points were being taken away not only for unfastened or stained robes, but also loose ties and messy hair. No one seemed to be on the same page about where Harry’s wild curls fell under these new rules, which was entirely unfair because he hadn’t asked for James Potter’s stupid genes!

The Puffs were still suspicious about their new Professor Mad-Eye Moody, even though Auntie Amelia through Susan tried to assure them that while he could be a little… intense.. he was a good man. Funny enough, Mad-Eye himself seemed to be both amused by their suspicion, and approving of it. After a few classes with the mad Auror, it was quickly becoming a school-wide joke to shout CONSTANT VIGILANCE! at someone who looked like they weren’t paying attention.

Then there was the preparation for the Triwizard Cup, in that the entire school was being scrubbed and polished for their coming visitors. Students across the years were sent off in assigned groups to cast cleaning charms at the walls and floors to make the whole castle sparkle like an old granny’s collection of snow globes.

Susan just pointed Harry at ‘their’ section and told him to get on with it. 

“Lazy cheats…” Harry muttered before scouring the whole hallway with a flippant wave of his hand. Yep, he still had it. Though it was funny, he’d never had a problem with water spells before, but now any charm that was supposed to produce water and soap fizzled out pretty fast. Harry put it down to his new affinity with fire. The whole crossed elements thing, you know? Made sense to him even if he couldn’t really tell Flitwick that’s why he had a sudden problem with his extra-curricular studies. At this point it was easier to wash dishes by hand rather than charming the soap suds.

There was also one more teeny, tiny thing that was not like the last few years.. 

Neville was having some serious jealousy issues ever since the train. Nothing B- Harry couldn’t handle, it was kind of funny really, but Neville did not at any point like it if Harry started hanging onto other people. No cosying up to Hannah just to see her blush or to smack him with a book. No deciding Ernie made a perfectly comfortable pillow during History class. No teasing poor Roger about the running group and showers...

At the same time, Neville seemed to be trying to make up for this new ban of touching by being a lot more touchy himself; an arm casually snaking around Harry’s waist, a hand possessively clasped over the back of Harry’s neck. All of which did help subdue that itching need to see what would happen if Harry made Neville blow his top again…

Figuratively. There was no literal blowing yet for either of them which had Harry a teensy bit confused but willing to play along for now. Wizards were awfully strange about sex, best to just let it be till Neville was ready.

Harry was fine with that. 

He did wonder if he _should_ be fine with that. He was, after all, a teenager going through puberty with what seemed like a boyfriend if you went by what everyone else said, who at times shared his bed and his shower, so wouldn’t it make more sense if he did push them in that direction? That’s what boyfriends did according to movies. Or was that just towards girls?

“You’re staring again.”

Chin propped on his hand, bruised scrapes across his knuckles already healing, Harry hmmmed. 

Neville glanced to the side, then the other side, and then back to Harry. “What do you want to ask that you feel you can’t ask while the others are around?”

Harry thought he should just get it over with, like ripping off a bandaid. “How come you don’t want to have sex with me? Is it because the etiquette books say we’d be hopelessly immoral and ruined for life?”

Heh. He’d made Neville splotch ink all over his essay. But Neville collected himself disappointingly quick, and soon straightened his face into something more neutral. With pink cheeks. “No, that’s… I don’t… _don’t_ … want to. But we’re only fourteen, we’re too young. And you do keep saying you think of me like a brother which is… weird.”

“Why?”

Neville set his quill down and focused entirely on Harry instead of his homework. “You do realize it’s frowned on for brothers to sleep together, don’t you?”

Harry closed and opened his eyes in the slowest blink ever, and tried to think of a response that wouldn’t freak Neville out without lying to him which was a big No-No in their relationship now. “That’s… dependent on the brother type?”

Nope, he’d chosen wrong. Neville’s eyes went narrow and hard and he stared at Harry silently.

“Like....adopted brothers?” Harry added weakly. 

“Right. Like _your_ adopted brothers I assume?”

“Well I mean, I know Toby and Brian sleep together.…but I don’t think they called themselves brothers before I started it, so it really shouldn’t count towards breaking the rules of society. Just sayin’.”

Harry remembered when he thought that the Slender Man was going to be the hard part of his life to explain. Turns out, that was just the beginning, there were a million tiny things that Harry knew not to share with people that he was happy to share with Neville if Neville wanted to ask, but uh.. Neville’s reactions were leaving a lot to be desired on some occasions. Baby steps. Start with the tiny-weird and work up to the fucked-up weird.

Harry just hoped Nev didn’t ask about the _blood _brothers, because he had some suspicions about Liu and Jeff. Though, it wasn’t weird for him because they were related, but because most of the time they couldn’t stand each other. Talk about mixed signals.__

__Harry’d rather talk about killing people._ _

__Aw hell, he had to tell Neville about killing people..._ _

__“My brothers are all… older than me,” Harry tried again in a more serious way. “They’re more like a bunch of best friends who hang out in the same house together. Then I was adopted and it was easier to just tag them all as brothers if we went out, than to say ‘this is my brother’s best friend’s boyfriend.’ They’re the people I love most even if it’s not by blood, and I respect them and kinda sorta listen to them most of the time. We’re family. I call you my brother because to say you’re only my ‘Best Friend’ feels very shallow compared to all that.”_ _

__Neville began to look less suspicious and more thoughtful, because it did make sense in the way Harry explained it, but.. “Not in public though, that’s all I ask. People get weird ideas and I think you’ve given them enough fodder over the years.”_ _

__SCORE! Harry beamed a smile at him. “I can do that. Only call you ‘brother’ when we’re alone in the dark, gotcha!”_ _

__“That’s not what I meant!”_ _

__Of course not, but Harry laughed anyways. Neville took everything he said so serious now, it was hard to get away with passing idle comments off as a joke. Bah. Harry looked down at his parchment and found that he really, really did not want to write an essay on the properties of silver, gold, and copper. Wasn’t the point of gold that it couldn’t be transfigured at all, else everyone in the world would be rich? Wait no that was creating, not changing. That was different. Maybe. Possibly. Harry would likely know this if he’d actually paid attention in class but who caaaaaared?_ _

__From the corner of his eyes he saw Neville look up at the long whine._ _

__“Transfiguration?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Liar. Let me see.”_ _

__Harry happily slid the half-assed essay towards Neville and dropped his head to the table. “I still gotta go meet with Professor Snape, ‘cause he’s evil and wants to suck out all my blood in the name of a health check. I’m going to wither away as a dried up mummy, just you wait. They’ll use my body to make paint like the Victorians did.”_ _

__“He’s not going to take _that_ much blood. Better him than Nurse Pomfrey anyways, so I’d be nice to the person in charge of your drugs.”_ _

__There was a snort from under the table and Harry kicked at the big black dog. “ _He_ believes me!”_ _

__“Cujo would believe anyone who fed him.”_ _

__“And you should come with me down to Snape’s cause I don’t think you should be all alone up here while everyone’s busy.”_ _

__The Choir Club was doing try-outs, Susan’s Ravenclaws were making study-group charts, Justin and Roger had gone to check out the rumors of a Chess Club.. And since Herbology Club wasn’t until Saturday, that would leave Neville all alone! It was dangerous for a Hufflepuff to be caught alone by the Gryffindors, so this was all just Harry looking out for him. Really!_ _

__“You just want to see if Cujo will finally bite Snape,” Neville looked up, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. A better response than calling Harry a hypocrite about all the times he’d refused to follow the same advice._ _

__“...maybe.”_ _

__“Stop scratching your arm and let me pack up. I can finish this in the hallway or something while you get sucked dry.”_ _

__Somehow, the words coming from Neville sounded a lot more interesting than when Harry had said it, and it made the red-eyed Badger giggle. Once Neville realized why, he rolled his eyes and smacked at Harry’s hand as it inched up his sleeve._ _

__“Shut up.”_ _

__Cujo wiggled out from underneath the table to follow them out, and Harry could have sworn the dog had grown over the summer. He was pretty sure Cujo’s back had been just the right height for Harry’s hand to rest on the fur. Now Harry had to bend his elbow to do the same, and unless _he’d_ shrunk… _ _

__“I’m never forgiving Hannah. She’s evil. I think we should throw Roger an intervention and help him see how evil she is next time she tries to charm her way into free chocolate.”_ _

__“Because she wants to celebrate you finally being taller than Luna?”_ _

__“YES DAMMIT,” with a theatrical flailing of arms. “Because how fucking dare she. As if she’s that much taller herself!”_ _

__Now Neville tilted his head back and laughed. Even Cujo seemed to be laughing, low rumbly growls filling the hall with a wagging tail to follow._ _

__“Fuck the both of you. I’m asking Snape for a growth potion or something, we’ll see who’s laughing when I crack six feet! I’ll be as tall as Roger!”_ _

__“But Harry,” Neville moved his satchel to the other shoulder to free the arm next to Harry, and he reached out to give the boy a consoling patpat on the back. “Potions don’t work on you, remember?”_ _

__It was a tie on who had the more scathing glare, Harry or Snape as the tall Potion’s Master stood in the doorway to his office with a pocket watch in hand. “You’re late Potter, detention!” he barked. As usual. Harry wondered if the man ever woke himself up in the middle of the night with DETENTION POTTER! on his lips._ _

__“Seriously? Come on! I already got three this morning ‘cause some Gryffindors wanted to have a debate! Ease up, will you?”_ _

__Snape looked down his long nose at Harry and ignored him. Turning to Neville, “out! You’ll find something else to do that will not put you underfoot. And take that blasted creature with you!”_ _

__Snape liked Cujo about as much Cujo liked Snape. One day Neville was going to find jars of pickled dog pieces in the Potion’s pantry and that would be that. Neville could almost imagine Snape sitting next to a fire with a cup of tea and a book on the history of torturing students… anda dog-skin rug under his slippers. Turning his laugh into a cough, Neville nudged Harry with an elbow. “I’ll wait out in the hall for you. Cujo will scare off any Snakelets that would try to run me off.”_ _

__Snape scowled but didn’t make any other remark so Harry assumed it was alright. Then the door was closed and Harry was locked up in a tiny office with an irate Potions Master. “I don’t have all evening to waste on you, Potter, so listen well and carefully. You will not, _under any circumstance_ , embarrass us in front of the visiting Headmasters and Ministry officials come October. I don’t care what it is you have to do to keep yourself in check, but you will do it.” _Or else_ , promised the glittering black eyes and Harry decided right then that this was not a line he wanted to cross._ _

__He knew that look and it promised very bad things should Harry decide to ignore the.. uhh… _request_. Snape might be limited to what he could legally do as a teacher, but Harry knew without a doubt that the man could be creative if needed. _ _

__Nope, nope, and nope._ _

__Harry snapped a hand to his forehead in a salute. “Yes Captain.”_ _

__Ooo hey, that was a feeling Harry hadn’t missed. Cold icy fingers trying to prod into his brain for more information they had no right to grab. Harry dropped his eyes to Snape’s desk and tried to look small and trustworthy. No trouble from him, promise! On Slender’s ink-colored tendrils!_ _

__“Hmmf. Now that we have an understanding on that little matter, remove your footwear and stand up straight.”_ _

__Oh goodie, time for the check-up. As if Eyeless hadn’t already done all this at home, but since he hadn’t bothered to hand over any paperwork to Boy to give to Snape, Harry suffered through the entire act again. Look Ma, no new scars! Maybe. He wasn’t actually sure._ _

__“No Flitwick this round? Aren’t you worried I’ll press charges about immoral conduct with a minor?”_ _

___“No.”_ _ _

__“Did you know Durmstrang is said to be a Dark Arts school? What if they do something that makes me defend myself against their dark and evil ways, would that count as embarrassing the school?”_ _

___“Yes.”_ _ _

__“Can I have one of your eyeballs?” Harry had meant one of the eyeballs from the jar on the second shelf to the right of the shiny gold beetle shells, but when Snape didn’t respond Harry turned to find the man looking as if Harry had really asked for one of his own personal eyeballs._ _

__“No sense of humor, I swear. Can I go now?”_ _

__Nope, still had to do a blood draw and have a penlight blared into his eyes to zap his brain. And then he had to explain why his scar was looking like it did, all red and puffy and sore._ _

__“It acts up sometimes, what’s the big deal?”_ _

__The strange look on Snape’s face that Harry couldn’t quite nail down said it was a very big deal but instead of explaining the Potion Master snapped at him to get out. And to not come back unless he was seriously ill because Snape was too busy to babysit._ _

__Something had definitely crawled up and died in Snape’s coffee pot this morning, because the man was unbelievably cranky today. Harry hadn’t even had a class with him yet, this wasn’t Harry’s fault! “Could’ve waited till he was in a better mood,” he complained to Neville. “I have detention with the old Bat later too, so I won’t even be able to chat with him for another age!”_ _

__“He probably thinks you’re hiding something from him, which you are. Isn’t this why you insisted on messing with your scar this morning, after the House Meeting?”_ _

__“....maybe.”_ _

__He’d had to ask Neville for some help this time. Taking a pair of tweezers to his scar to pull out the tiny glittering scales left him feeling like the side of his face was covered in teeny tiny papercuts, but it wasn’t something he wanted Snape to see all up close and personal. Neville hadn’t liked it either, but hadn’t yet asked _why _Harry was growing scales. Just accepted the vague mumbles. Which was good, Harry hadn’t the slightest clue how to lead into ‘ _I’m growing scales because I like to play with people’s blood after I kill them.’_ Baby steps!___ _

____And now Harry had a migraine from the light being shone into his red eye. The golden auras around students and castle were flaring brightly and made Harry cover his eye with a hand to block it out. Ow._ _ _ _

____It must have made him look extra pitiful because Neville slid an arm around his waist and pressed a light kiss to the corner of his eye, close to the scar. “Cheer up. Cujo scared some Firstie Slytherins with his Grimm impersonation, so there’ll be some new rumors going around tomorrow about the haunted hallway Snape lives in.”_ _ _ _

____“Only counts if someone dies.”_ _ _ _

____“We have all year.”_ _ _ _

____Harry almost missed a step on the stairs to hear Neville say that so thoughtfully. “Yeah?”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah.”_ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> Happy Holidays you amazing readers! I hope everyone is living as stress-free as their situation allows, and can find something to celebrate in this awkward time of.. things. If you're home from school after exams (this is the time for them right?) you got this! I know you did well, so take a deep breathe and relax now. My fellow retail and those in food, we got this! It's almost over and then we can take a deep breath and relax. People stuck at home, in the office, or wherever you may be right now, you got this! I believe in you! I wish you all a happy and healthy holidays, spent in a way you enjoy!


	11. Scratching the Surface

It amused Harry that after the first few attempts to be little rebels and stay up far, far too late on a school night, his Hufflepuffs soon made a silent pact to sleep at an ‘appropriate’ time during the week, then on saturday night only they would stay up for hours on end to play cards or tell stories. This way, it gave them all of Sunday to recuperate without missing any clubs on Saturday morning. 

They were so cute. 

Harry reached out with a spoon and poked Ernie in the head. The boy grumbled and frowned with his eyes tightly closed, reaching up to swat in the vague direction of the utensil. 

Neville, who looked slightly better because like Harry he’d taken little catnaps through the evening rather than try to stay up all in one shot, took the spoon from Harry and stirred his soup with it. Then frowned down at his bowl as he tried to figure out if Ernie had been wearing any hair products. Finally, he shrugged and started eating. 

Heh.

Harry barely recalled much of his first year when he’d been forced to be awake all day instead of all night, but he assumed he’d looked much like they did now- all glassy eyed and sleeping on their plates. 

And it was _lunchtime_. Had Harry ever been that lazy? Surely not.

A sparkle of silver to his left let it be known Luna had wandered over to say hello. Unlike Colin who’d taken to avoiding the Hufflepuff table with an ashamed face, the little blonde Ravenclaw still drifted where the wind took her. Harry should bring her a book next time they had vacation, she might enjoy reading about the sparkling vampires that she always reminded him of. He was running out of sweets ideas, no that he’d given it much thought since last spring though.

“They had a very rousing Exploding Snap tournament,” Harry offered the silent girl as she looked over the pathetic Fourth Years. “They all lost.” Hard to have quick reflexes when you were falling asleep over your cards.

Luna nodded, “to be expected. Only Neville wins now, though I can think of a few people who might be able to bear the Nargles long enough to give him a challenge.”

“Yeah? Who?”

Luna pointed. 

Harry had to lean past Neville to see who she was meaning, and sighed. Of course it was Cedric. Who else would have the luck of Slender on him? Somewhere. It wasn’t in his aura, so there had to be some sort of mark directly on his body. Like Neville’s. It hadn’t been at the top of his list to go looking for, back when Neville was all sorts of pissed off, but Harry had seen it eventually- a teeny tiny X in a circle burned into the skin right over Neville’s heart. Harry could cover it with his thumb.

So while he wasn’t as interested as Hannah was to see Cedric stripped down for the sake of seeing him in the buff, Harry would admit he was curious. Not enough to piss off Neville, but curious nonetheless! Maybe in Spring when it got warmer and people went swimming….?

“Eh. Cedric can keep his good luck to himself. It’s easier to fleece the Slytherins.”

Luna sat herself on the bench now, and drew a bowl of cut up fruit closer to herself. “Cedric is very, very lucky. I think he’d even win the Tournament if he felt like it, unless Neville decided to play. Do you think he would? It’d be luck against luck, we’d never know who had the better chance at winning till someone’s head was left on the ground.”

“ _Not on his fucking life_ ,” Harry hissed. 

Only when Neville sat up straight and half turned did Harry realize he’d literally hissed the sentence at the little girl. Looking a little blurry eyed, Neville tugged on Harry’s arm to pull him away from Luna while eyeing her with sleepy suspicion.

“Mornin’ Luna.”

“Good afternoon Neville. Have you seen Susan? She was supposed to loan me a book on Runes today but I haven’t seen her.”

“She was up when we left, so she’ll be here soon.” Neville eyed her for a little longer then slowly returned to his soup, arm still kept firmly around Harry’s shoulders.

Thusly pinned in place, Harry squirmed around until he could lean his back into Neville’s side with the arm now slung across his chest. Playing with the braided bracelet on Neville’s wrist, Harry tried to return his attention back to Luna, who was looking like a little owl as she blinked up at him with those huge watery eyes.

“No. I’ve heard about this damn tournament, and you all can keep your slimey paws off Neville. He’s gone through enough from this damn school and you aren’t going to give him any more trouble.”

“Of course. I was just meaning that he’d have a higher chance of winning. It’ll be much more fun to watch when it’s not one of your friends personally invested in it.”

Why did that still sound like a threat? Harry liked Luna in a vague, oh look a cute little bird, sort of way but she wasn’t one of his Puffs and someone he needed to look after. Being nice to Luna made Flitwick happy, it made Sprout happy, it made the Hufflepuffs happy. Luna made Harry look like he had a soul somewhere in his twisted little heart.

Eyeing the little silver flecks in her aura through his red eye, Harry wondered if he’d picked her to use as a foil, or if she’d picked him. Because there were some occasions where she came off just a little too weird to be normal, a little too… off. If she turned out to be using some sort of glamour charm on him Harry was going to be so pissed.

“You get to go to Hogsmeade this year right? You and Colin? That’ll be fun. Hannah will tell you to get a date for tradition’s sake so be warned, she’s ruthless.”

“We’ve already figured that out, thank you. She’s making Roger be my escort because-”

“Because Roger is a doormat.” That wasn’t Harry, who’d never say something so cruel about the tallest Hufflepuff, it was Roger himself muttering across the table into his sandwich.

“That too,” Luna agreed without batting an eye, “but Hannah also says Roger is a Trustworthy Gentleman who knows how to treat a Lady-” 

“-which means paying for her candy-”

“-and I won’t have to worry about anyone trying to ruin my day with bullying. I’m looking forward to trying out the ice rink, I’ve never gone skating before.”

Anyone else would have found Roger’s glum expression incredibly insulting, but Luna didn’t even seem to notice as she picked all the strawberries out of the fruit bowl. Looking from one to the other, Harry wondered if he was supposed to say something but if Roger really felt against escorting Luna.. then he was perfectly capable of saying ‘no’ to Hannah. Maybe. Sometimes. 

“I guess if that works for you guys,” dubiously, “but what’s Colin going to do?”

“Colin would have asked Hannah but he’s been influenced by the Rotfang members in his dorm, and is too nervous to be seen with a Hufflepuff. Especially after what happened at the Cup. A pity, he was amusing to talk to and he took a lot of pictures for me.”

Colin had ditched Luna because of the Gryffindors? 

Harry had never cared for the little twerp. Disloyal, flighty, always hiding behind his piece of crap camera.. Harry grumbled mostly to himself and scowled over at the red and gold table. Lunch was more sparsely populated than dinner, especially on the weekend when the schedule was more expanded, but no one would be able to miss Ron. Not Colin’s roommate perhaps, Harry had no idea who those were in the first place, but Ron was easily the most vocal about the Evil Hufflepuffs.

Or he used to be, the Weasley clan was awfully quiet this year. Sure it was just the first month of school, but.. quiet. Low-key. Supposedly the twins still cut it up inside the Gryffindor Tower, there was some talk about a joke candy line that had people wary of eating anything left out in the open, so _they_ were moving on with their lives obviously. Ron… they’d have to wait and see what that Mind Therapist had done for him.

Colin though, that was a different matter entirely. 

Harry must have started muttering to himself because Neville turned his head and kissed Harry’s temple. “Stop fretting, you can send Cujo after him later.” 

Neville knew him so well.

“He’s a little bigger than a toad, I don’t think Cujo will be able to get him down in one gulp.”

“Then we’ll feed the rest to Sprout’s Devil’s Snare.”

“Can we really?”

“We can discuss it later,” Neville grinned while looking much more awake now.

While Harry wanted to be able to take Neville seriously about the potential murder of one nervy little mouse, he was pretty sure Neville wasn’t at that point yet. Ignoring Roger’s pained responses to Luna’s wispy-voiced ponderings of all the things to see in Hogsmeade, Harry tried not to pout and accept the fact that baby steps were called such because they were teeny tiny steps taken towards the goal.

Which meant Harry was utterly floored when Neville nabbed Harry, his backpack, and Cujo to abscond off with all three to the edges of the forest, for a conversation Harry was _sure_ wasn’t supposed to happen till Halloween at the earliest. You know- the time for spooks and ghosts and slasher movies. Gloomy skies that threatened rain were a _little_ better than blue skies with sunshine, but it still fell short of the mark of a good full moon for morbidity.

“You know, Blaise once asked me how you saw people,” Neville started off while digging through Harry’s backpack. Harry allowed it, for now, because he was a little occupied with the blood-pop Neville had shoved into his mouth once getting them outside. “Way back in Second Year, I think.”

“Mmmf?” Harry hummed. He looked up at the tree canopy as the potential rain started to ‘plink’ against the leafy cover. Cujo stuck his nose to the ground and snuffled around the base of the tree before settling in to lay nearby, eyes alertly watching the way back towards the castle.

“He asked me, because he thought you never seemed to know what you were doing until you saw someone else do it first. He was also trying to tell me how much he’d figured you out, which was and continues to be a complete laugh because he has _no_ idea what goes on inside that dented skull of yours.”

Dented? Harry touched a hand to the side of his head. “Mmmf!”

“But I think he was also right. You don’t see people as real.”

“Mmm….” Harry stalled for time by swirling the candy in his mouth to get as much bloodied syrup as possible. Neville didn’t look bothered by the lack of response, as he’d found his prize- Harry’s sketchbook. Not as full as it could have been, Harry had been a little distracted lately and the delicate inks weren’t doing it for him as much as they used to. He craved bigger. Messier. Redder.

“Like this. It’s Susan, no one will argue that, but she looks a little… flat.” 

The sketch was unfinished, which didn’t help, with the edges trailing off into blank spaces as if Harry had lost interest. It _was_ Susan, and a very good portrayal of Susan, but it had an oddness to it at the same time. If Neville had to put it to words, he’d say she looked like a blank-eyed doll. 

“But then you have this…. other stuff.” Another page, another half-finished drawing, but it was miles different from the first. And not only because the face was a ruin of broken flesh and cracked bone, but there was a sense of liveliness to the corpse that the portrait of Susan somehow lacked.

Harry tilted his head like a confused puppy waiting to see where all this was going. 

“Harry… I know you get into fights. I know that you _like_ getting into fights, and I’ve seen you break kids noses and fingers, even slammed a guys face into a railing without blinking. I’ve also seen you kill animals and butcher them to roast over a campfire, with the exact same enthusiasm.” Neville paused for a long moment. “What I really want to know is… have you ever killed a person?”

Shit.

Harry went still, feeling his eyes go wide at the bluntness of the question. Pretty big leap there, Nev, going from a few random sketches to murder. Harry liked anatomy books, that's why he knew which muscles were where! Experience with cooking told him how the bones looked when shattered and cracked and leaking marrow! It was nothing more than… 

Than…

A complete and utter lie and Neville had asked for Harry to tell him the truth. 

“In my defence, Lockhart kidnapped me and tried to perform an exorcism ‘cause he thought I was possessed by the devil.”

Neville hadn’t expected that and he stared at Harry. “ _Lockhart_? Dumbldore said he’d.. You missed the train,” he realized. “You went to go get the box for Mimi, and we didn’t see you till we came back. You killed _Lockhart_?”

“He whacked me in the head and carried me off to some wildland cottage. Without anyone knowing! If he’d had it his way, no one would have realized he’d killed me till weeks later, unless he’d decided to parade it through Diagon as his newest heroism.”

Huh. You know, when he said it like that.. wow that could have been a terrible situation. What if Lockhart had picked a kid who couldn’t defend himself as well as Harry had? Harry’s sudden revelation was broken up by the sharp crackling of expensive paper being scrunched up. Cujo whined, but Harry just kicked at the mutt and kept his focus on Neville’s flashing eyes. He’d been right, that temper made Neville look _hot_ so long as it wasn’t directed at Harry. 

“Jealous I got to him first? I slit his throat and drained him dry to paint the walls with his blood.”

The words were out before Harry considered exactly how psychotic he sounded. Because it was one thing to admit to killing someone trying to muder you, another to proudly declare what you’d done to the body afterwards, especially in that sort of low, raspy purr.

“Yes, dammit.” Neville snapped. He flung the ruined sketch to the side and grabbed Harry by his tie, pulling him closer to snarl right in his face. “You are _not_ allowed to _die_ to someone so stupid!”

Awfully familiar words. Where had Harry heard that line before? Hand planted on the ground for balance, Harry grinned toothily around his blood-pop. “I’ll take you with me next time someone tries to kidnap me. It’ll be a great bonding exercise, you and me and the dead guy…mmf!”

In a clash of teeth and a broken lollipop stick, Neville kissed him. An oddly chaste mashing of bleeding lips until Harry pulled away long enough to spit out the chunks of hard candy, but after that was taken care of, there were a lot more teeth and tongue in the mix and Harry’s nerves thrummed with delight. 

Which was why Neville ended up on his back in the grass with his face cradled between Harry’s hands in a tight grip. Lips smeared with blood and melted candy, Harry panted for breath as the rain started to come down more heavily. Water drops were now falling down through the tree branches, but he didn’t care.

“I’m not gunna ask why you get turned on by me almost dying,” nuzzling at Neville’s cheek, “but when you get jealous, you’re _gorgeous_.”

“I am not- That’s… you’re mine, alright? No one is allowed to touch you! I’ll break the fingers of anyone who thinks that they can put their hands on you, just try and stop me,” Neville growled. 

“What if I touch them?” Harry teased. He scraped his teeth along Neville’s jaw and bit him hard enough to leave a little mark just to hear Neville hiss. “Or, what if it’s not their hands? Will you still blame them and kiss me till I can’t see straight?”

“ _Yes._ ” 

Harry cackled, leaning in close till their noses touched in the most delicate butterfly kisses. While continuing to hold Neville’s head still, he asked-“will you chop their hands off? Will you blast them into a wall? _What will you do_ to the people who decide they can touch what’s yours?”

The red glow of Harry’s eye seemed to pierce Neville through to his brain, right into the dark corner of his mind where a staticy buzz lurked and waited. The edges of his vision went oddly grey and speckled as Neville pondered some nameless person in some unknown future event, and he felt his temper rise in a way he hadn’t felt since last year. When his Grandmother had tried to force him back into the weak, obedient puppet she’d raised so carefully.

“I’d kill them.”

Whatever response Neville thought he’d get from Harry, a fit of giggles was not it. Harry released his grip on Neville’s head to collapse against his chest, giggling helplessly into the black material covering Neville’s shoulder.

Should Neville feel offended? He was feeling offended. Rolling his eyes, Neville patted Harry on the back and waited it out. And then waited some more when Harry got a glance at Neville’s disgruntled face and started giggling all over again. 

“I would!”

“Would _not_ , you liar. You’d only _think_ about it.” Still grinning, Harry sat up now and wiped at his eyes. “Like you _thought_ about killing your Grandmother. If you can’t even kill _her_ , then why would you kill some poor kid caught playing footsie?”

...fair enough. Neville could understand why Harry would say that. Watching Harry who had turned his face up to watch the rain, all Neville could think was that if someone, like the unregrettably deceased Lockhart, tried to put their hands on Harry with the intention to harm.. Neville needed to be more prepared. 

“Then teach me.”


	12. Faerie bad news

“There! That one! See how they move?”

On a platform high enough to not get much foot traffic, but not so high up that people were tiny ants, Harry had dragged Neville up the staircases to people watch. Theoretically the stairs wouldn’t move as long as they sat there on the platform, but Neville was keeping an eye on them just in case as Harry tended to dangle his feet over the side.

“You gotta look at their body language. Remember Flint? I miss Flint. He wasn’t the smartest or backed by a powerful family, but he had a way of walking that parted people like the red sea. The Slytherins _listened_ to him, that’s how he got to be Captain. It’s all.. you know.. Shoulders back and heads up and _Take No Prisoners Men_!”

“Instead of…?” Neville was amused, dodging the occasional flailing of Harry’s hands as he got excited during the ‘lesson’.

Harry looked over the crowd and pointed. “Umm….over there. The fourth floor.. Dirty blonde hair, shoulders pulled up to his ears, trying to hide behind his friends... That’s prey. That’s someone who’d be easy to take down, and see how the kids in front of him ignore he’s there? He could vanish without people caring about it until it was too late and long buried.”

“Sounds like me in our first year.”

“Fuck you, even back then you were awesome. I don’t pay attention to pathetic people, look at how fast I dropped Hermione.”

Neville smirked. “Her and half the school.” Harry always got this hilarious expression on his face when he ran into someone who knew him, had known him for years thanks to classes together, but Harry had no idea who _they_ were. And then five seconds after a bumbling conversation with whoever it was, Harry blocked them back out of his mind until the next occasion.

“Only half? I would have thought it was more.” 

Harry tilted his head back with a happy sound as Neville carded fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at Harry’s scalp. They’d have to rebraid the mess of hair before they fell under the gaze of the Gestapo, but for now Harry let it tumble down his shoulders and back as he purred like a giant cat. Susan would be so disappointed to see her Fishtail Braid undone, but Mimi had gotten stuck and Harry wasn’t willing to lop off any more hair when the one piece still refused to grow out.

“Alright, so there’s people who are prey, and people who are predators. Where does Blaise fall? He doesn’t walk around acting like a coward, but he doesn’t shove his way through a crowd like... “ Neville considered a few people. “...Draco.”

“Blaise is a neutral. I think? He doesn’t challenge people for their place in the room, but he doesn’t act like he’d roll over and die if you glanced at him. Draco though, he’s a weird one. He used to be such a pathetic loser, a _loud_ one, and then all of a sudden he hardened like a rock and became a bad-ass. I tried asking him if he’d met any cool strangers but he never actually said,” Harry ended thoughtfully. He remembered being so sure Draco was one of Slender’s hunted Wizards, but the numbers didn’t add up. Had there been three hunts, or merely two? Harry wasn’t sure..

But Neville didn’t actually want to talk about Draco, and swiftly changed the subject. “You called me a neutral, so should I be trying to act more like Blaise? Agree with everything you say and always be on hand to offer you a solution, be at your beck and call in case you decide to murder me in my sleep?” The dirty look Harry threw at him made Neville grin wider.

“I’m taking you home to Eyeless. Tell him _he_ ’s a kiss-up, and I’ll watch him fillet your kidneys for dinner.”

“Eyeless is.. the blind brother.” Kind of hard to get that one wrong with a name like Eyeless.

“Yes, and he’s more dangerous than I could ever hope to be, but he’s calm about it. You talk like him sometimes, when you do that.. thing you do. When I’m a brat, I mean, and you don’t want people to see you encouraging me so you get super placid about it.”

Neville tilted his head in a light nod of agreement. “Neutral predator then, instead of neutral prey?” The way Harry put it, Neville already did all the things his elder brother did, which was to guard Harry’s back and let him have his fun, but be ready to smack down anyone who tried to get a hand up on him. ....though Neville did hope the bloodied kisses were unique to only him.

“Exactly!” 

Harry could literally see the progress Neville was making as he soaked up information like a sponge. Tiny flecks of grey were popping up in his aura and Harry had made it a game for himself to see if he could shoo the flecks closer to each other, make them breed or something until Neville was covered in a cursed haze. Hadn’t worked so far, but that’s why it was a game.

“So if that’s what I already do… I should just keep on doing it?”

“Yup! With more confidence though. Seriously Nev, don’t you see yourself sometimes? You make the Firsties flee in terror!” 

“That was once and I wasn’t even glaring at _them_.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and winced. His scar was getting worse, the scales were growing back faster and Harry thought they might be growing back bigger. He should have left them alone when they were tiny spots of glitter, but now he was stuck with it. Or Neville was, and Harry hated to ask him but it was too much on his own.

Neville checked his watch. The stairs down below were starting to thin out and that meant it was time to start heading down to the lake. “Turn around, I’ll do your hair.” He’d seen the girls do it often enough, had even practiced some himself, braiding Harry’s mane into some more presentable only took a couple minutes. While Harry wouldn’t be noted in the Hogwarts Hall of Fame for it, he was so far setting a personal record this year for not having detention every night. It was only three times a week so far, which was almost jaw-dropping, but that was only as long as Harry kept his head down. 

But his hair, like Harry himself, hated to be tamed.

The walk was long, and they’d had a late start, so by the time Neville and Harry joined the rest of the Hufflepuffs by the lake almost everyone else had already arrived. Teachers barked orders and lined them up in ranks according to year. Ties were tightened, hats straightened, and robes de-wrinkled. There was a minor glaring stand-off between Sprout and McGonagall but both women sniffed and turned to their respective houses with a keen eye.

Hannah tugged on Harry’s sleeve silently, and when he got the full blast of that puppy-eyed I’m-so-cold expression, Harry sighed but coaxed Mimi out of his robe and handed her off to Hannah. The snakelet swiftly hid herself inside Hannah’s collar and the blonde beamed at him. Looking forward, Harry caught Sprout watching him, and while she wagged a finger at him, she didn’t demand he send his pet back to the dorm.

As if she would, with Cujo sitting front and center among the Firstie Hufflepuffs like some sort of furry Guardian Angel. It was fucking hilarious how inside of the House, Cujo was a beloved pet, while _outside_ the House, he was a holy terror that snapped at the butts of people who even looked sideways at the small Puffs.

“How long are we going to stand out here…?” Harry whispered to Nevillle. 

“Till we’re graced with the presence of our esteemed guests,” playing with Harry’s fingers as the time dragged on, and on, and on… Not only because he was bored, but because Harry ran hotter than most people and Neville’s hands were cold. 

There was a wave of excitement as a powder-blue carriage came dropping out of the sky being pulled by the biggest horses many of them had ever seen. They were massive! They’d give Hagrid a run for his money, that’s for sure. However, when they’d fully landed, Harry found that he had no interest in the horses, but he was highly interested in the flood of students that came tumbling out of the carriage. They _sparkled!_ Some had flecks of silver like Luna, some had streaky smears like Flitwick. A couple outright shimmered in the sunlight like they’d been enveloped with silver halos.

He was sure there were a couple of people in the crowd without any silver at all, but they were literally out shone by the others who did.

Harry covered his left eye with a hand to get a better look at the show of Faerie blood, and turned to watch as the blue-clad students trooped inside. There was a squeeze to his hand still held in Neville’s, and Harry squeezed back with a shrugged shoulder and-

“Pretty.”

The pirate ship that came up out of a whirlpool in the middle of the lake was much more impressive, in Harry’s humble opinion, than a carriage pulled by golden horses. It creaked and groaned and the sails unfurled with a heavy SNAP of drama. And forget the little french butterflies, the Durmstrang students wore blood red uniforms and fur cloaks. So much cooler. Why were the kids in Hogwarts stuck with plain black robes in the first place? Why couldn’t they have something as cool as a military style uniform? Be a lot harder to wear normal clothes underneath though.. maybe Harry should count his blessings.

Probably itched too. And constrained movement. And…

“I want a fur cloak.”

“You had one, you told Sprout to sell it cause it was three feet too long.”

“I want a fur cloak that _fits_ me, jackass.”

“Mmm…” Neville hummed. “Maybe when you’ve grown bigger. You don’t have the shoulders to pull it off yet.”

Neville moved just enough to the side that Harry’s elbow missed his stomach. Harry overbalanced and tried to catch himself by taking a step back, but Neville helped out by putting his arms around Harry’s waist to steady him. 

“Careful, don’t embarrass us in front of the visiting Headmasters.”

“I’m gunna-…” Harry’s reply fizzled out on his lips as he caught Snape’s eyes boring into him. The Potion Master might be all the way over there, but Harry wasn’t testing his temper. “...act like the mature, responsible child I am and forgive you.”

He felt Neville’s chest shake with repressed laughter but Harry was a fucking saint and didn’t try to elbow him again. He kept his swearing under his breath and dire promises to himself as fiiiiinally they were allowed to solemnly troop inside to watch with polite interest as Beauxbatons and Durmstrang did some weird mini-performances, and then Dumbledore welcomed everyone and introduced the massive Madam Maxime and sour faced Karkaroff.

In a move Harry assumed had to do with keeping their guests from any unpleasant accidents, neither school was seated with the Hufflepuffs or Gryffindors. Instead, the Ravens got to make room for the French students, while Slytherin got Dumrstrang. There was a bit of excitement going on there, and once Harry bothered to listen to the whispering gossip of Susan and Hannah, apparently they had a sports star in their midst, and from the World Cup no less.

Interesting. Harry had seen some pictures of the World Cup players, and had used Justin’s binoculars that had the whole event recorded, so he was pretty sure Krum was the one who’d had the broken face.. 

“Think he speaks German?”

“He might. Dumrstrang requires everyone to speak Bulgarian, but they accept students from all around that area. Going to go fawn over him too?”

Harry grinned. “Maybe if he breaks his nose again. Think I could throw another ball at him?”

Neville hooked his chin over Harry’s shoulder and made a ‘hmmmf’ sound right in his ear. There were some truly odd looking foods on the table tonight and Harry was delighted to try the snails if only to see everyone’s expressions as he did. Neville winced away when offered a bite.

At the end of the not-quite-feast, Dumbledore got their attention once more to announce how the Champions would be chosen for the Tournament- by a cup. It was a very magical cup, to be sure, spewing blue fire as it was settled atop of the ornate crate. 

But it was still a cup.

“Are.. are we literally drawing names out of a hat to see who gets to go die for fame and glory?”

“You mean literally drawing names out of a _cup_ ,” Justin muttered, sharing a bewildered glance with Harry. 

“It’s charmed, of course, to choose the best of the options given. Very, very heavily charmed and it’s absolutely ancient, so no one even knows what the spells are anymore.” Susan was always a fountain of interesting tidbits, Harry blamed her Ravenclaw friends. Though likely it was her Aunt that _this_ trivia had come from. “That’s why the Ministry added an age limit this year, because the cup wouldn’t know to adjust to modern laws.”

“Huh. But what would stop someone from asking an older student to put their name in?”

Susan frowned. She looked to Ernie who held up his hands. “Don’t ask me, the teachers are the ones who should have thought of that. Maybe they’ll put a round-the-clock guard on it to check people’s papers, who knows.”

“It’s Fae.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s Fae,” Harry repeated. His head was titled to the side as it usually was when he looked at something through his red, aura-reading eye. “It’s absolutely slathered in Fae magic, so that’s why no one knows what it is. I bet it binds itself to your soul until you do _exactly_ what it wants. That’s why it needs people’s names I guess, cause names have power.”

“Oh.”

Justin’s eyes lit up. “That’s right! The rules in our- in the _Muggle_ Fairy Tales were pretty clear. Don’t give them your name, and don’t eat anything they offer you! Also, if you break a promise you pretty much die straight off because a word of honor is everything.”

“Charming,” Hannah said dryly. 

Justin could only shrug. “You guys are the magic experts, we only know the tidbits that fell through. Right Harry?”

Harry was focused on freeing another snail from its shell and was absolutely not avoiding the conversation, eyes slanting towards Neville as _he_ twitched at Justin’s question. Instead, Harry held out his fork to Justin with a toothy smile. “Gastropod?”

Recoiling away from the tasty, buttery treat, Justin turned to Ernie with wide eyes and a swift change of topic.

“Should we warn Cedric? Everyone has been harassing him into putting his name forward and all, but this sounds…”

“He’s seventeen, why would he listen to some nervous Fourth Years? Sprout already talked to all the older kids anyways, so they should know it’s going to be hard. And if they don’t, it’s their own fault for not paying attention.”

“That’s awfully cold…” Hannah frowned. She reached up to play with a pigtail, forgetting she didn’t have them anymore. She patted at her shoulder for a few seconds before quickly putting her hands on her lap with a blush.

“It’s practical,” Susan corrected. “Auntie talks about this all the time, how people go headfirst into situations that they were told were dangerous, and then cry about getting hurt because they didn’t listen or prepare like people warned them to.”

“Harry, I’m not eating that,” Neville pushed the fork away from his face. “It’s a garden pest, not food. And I think Cedric is too smart to not realize it’s dangerous, didn’t he help the teachers face down the Dementors last year? If anyone can survive a blood-thirsty competition, it’ll be him.”

“Cheers to that.”

The fire-spewing Goblet was eventually installed near the main doors outside the Great Hall. 

There it stood proudly on its golden casket, encircled by a golden age line placed by Dumbledore himself. Everyone seemed very impressed by that and chattered about how no one would be able to cheat now, not if Dumbledore had made it secure. He was the greatest Wizard alive!

“‘Alive’ is a pretty specific detail,” Harry mused as the Puffs got ready for bed back at the Dorm. “Why even say it?”

“Merlin,” Neville reminded him.

“Eh.” Down at Mimi who was twined around Harry’s wrist- ‘ _Yes you have to go to bed now, stop complaining_ ,’ and stuffed her into her teapot. The high pitched squeaks trailed out of the spout along with a few flickering flames. “She’s getting moody lately. I think she’s hit her teenage years,” Harry grimaced. He climbed up onto Neville’s bed and handed him a hairbrush. “Brush me!”

“Until you’re bald,” Neville said, which came off as half a promise, and half a threat and Harry didn’t care either way. He lost a lot less hair when Neville did it than some _other_ people, so he sprawled across Neville’s legs and closed his eyes.

But he wasn’t allowed to sleep in Neville’s bed, which was stupid because have you _seen_ how many broom closets Hogwarts had? There were a million better places to get frisky, with a lot fewer witnesses, than a bed in a dorm room. But noooo…. Harry had to drag himself half asleep to his own damn bed and collapse into the mattress. Because of all the fuss of the next day, everyone had agreed to go to sleep earlier than their usual card-game night so the room was quiet and dark with the light sounds of a snoring dog before Midnight approached.

Somewhere around three am, Harry was jolted out of a dead sleep by what felt like icy fingers wrapping around his throat.


	13. Faerie Bad News pt 2

After one of the worst night’s sleep in his life, Harry could barely make his limbs move as he heard the other Puffs start their morning routines with the accompanying noise of drawers and trunks and bathroom door opening and closing. 

Harry whined into his pillow, curling around it to block out the light. His head was throbbing like a drum, even with the gentle grip Slender had on him, blocking out the random flashes of silver light that had plagued Harry all night.

He didn’t know what it was, he didn’t know where it came from, but Slender had not appreciated the foreign magic trying to weasel its way into Harry’s head, and the Eldritch Horror had stepped in fairly quickly after the initial attack. Harry could almost imagine the long black tendrils wrapping around his brain like possessive eels snapping at quiksilver piranha.

Between the two of them sleep had been nearly impossible, until almost the crack of dawn when the strange-feeling magic had backed off. Not left, he could tell it was still lurking outside of Slender’s barrier, but it had stopped strobing its light into his brain, thank fucking god.

Harry really, _really_ did not want to get up to face the noise and brightness of the Great Hall for something as trivial as breakfast.

He nearly missed the physical touch against the back of his head, both because of the mental grip of Slender and because the touch had been so light, but the soothing stroke of fingers through his hair had Harry whining again. He did try to sit up, but the hand on his head firmly kept him in place. It was removed after a moment and now Harry could feel someone tucking his blanket further around him and he was going to assume that was permission to stay in bed.

So right there he stayed, face planted so deeply into his pillow that only the fact it held a cotton filling kept him from smothering himself. 

The second time he woke, Slender was still buzzing in the back of his mind, but it was comforting rather than irritating. Slender had his back no matter what. Who wouldn’t feel good about that? Harry stretched, surprised when an outreached hand smacked something hard, but when he rolled over to finally lift his head from the pillow, it was only Neville. That was good too. Harry completed the roll to cast his arm over Neville’s legs and use his thigh as a pillow.

Neville had a book on his lap that he shifted to the side, and he patted Harry's head with a small smile. “I brought you a sandwich. You slept through breakfast and half the morning. Most of the school is out haunting the Great Hall to see who’s entering their names into the Goblet. Cedric did, in case you were wondering, but I think the applause embarrassed him.”

“Hmmm…” Harry hummed. He rubbed his cheek against the soft material of Neville’s school robe, and yawned widely. 

“You look a lot better now. I almost went to see Snape about you being sick but thought I’d better wait till you got up first.”

“ ‘m fine, didn’t sleep well. Slender was cranky about some Fae magic trying to infest my brain.”

“Ah. So that’s… okay then?”

Harry had to smile at how dubious Neville sounded. He needed to get Neville home so he could meet Slender on better terms than in the middle of the night with death looming over his head. Harry also needed to eat, as his stomach started to complain, and take a shower because he felt sweaty and gross, but he was also just so damn comfortable at the same time.. He rubbed his face again into Neville’s thigh and was juuuust about to let himself doze back off...

“Uh, Harry?”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m going to need you to move.”

“Aww…” Harry tilted his head to look up at Neville and noted the boy had gone pink. “But I’m comfy!”

The pink cheeks were starting to turn a rosey red and Harry was amused. Why on earth was Neville getting embarrassed by… oh. Heh.

“This could be easily resolved if you’d just let me-”

“ _No_. It’s not approp… we promised. No fooling around in the dorm.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and then rolled his body, removing his arm from where it lay across Neville’s groin. “Fine. But I’m taking a shower and you’re not invited.” Kicking the blankets off his legs, Harry swung his feet to the floor with a sulky frown. “I’ll be wet and naked but too young and too _inappropriate_ for any- gah!”

Arms around his waist hauled Harry back onto the bed just as he’d tried to stand up. Drawn up flush against Neville’s chest, Harry opened his mouth to say something snarky but ended up gasping like a silly girl when Neville bit him. Right at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Not as hefty of a chomp it could have been, but it was still going to leave some good marks, and with Neville’s arm tight around his waist to hold him still… Harry might have moaned. Just a little. Except right afterwards Neville not only pushed Harry away but right off the goddamn bed.

“You can take your shower now.”

“Mother _fucker_ ,” Harry swore from the floor. “What the fuck was that fucking for?”

“If I have to be uncomfortably aroused, so do you. Hurry up so we can go see who else has decided to tempt their fate on magic.”

Harry flipped him off, but clambered to his feet. His neck felt bruised and sore and fuck everything. Joke was on Neville, Harry was perfectly comfortable masturbating in the shower and so HE’D be nice and relaxed afterwards. Neville would be the one left suffering. So fucking there. 

He could hear Neville snickering all the way into the bathroom till the door closed and Harry gave the wood planks the evil eye before carrying on with things. Rude fucking bastard, Harry would get him back later and it’d be Neville’s own fault.

Sadly Harry was not, in fact, more relaxed after his shower. He was actually even more irritated because that had been entirely unsatisfying all together. Neville on the other hand was smiling as light heartedly as sweet little Hannah while offering a napkin wrapped sandwich. But every time Harry tried to grab it, Neville yanked it away until step by step they’d left the dorm of beds and Neville got Harry to sit down at the table in the study room.

“You fucking suck.”

“Just looking out for you,” smile widening as Harry growled at him.

Had to give Hogwarts credit, their food supplies were jaw dropping in deliciousness. It may have been a plain ham and cheese meal, but the quality of it could have been served to the Queen of England herself. Juicy and tender, creamy and thick, best sandwich of his life. Or so he claimed every time, it was probably because he was so hungry, and not because it was that good. Either way, Harry barely breathed as he scarfed it down to tame the wild beast in his belly by bludgeoning it with food.

Harry started to lick his fingers clean before getting a napkin thrown into his face, which he obediently used instead to wipe off his hands. 

“Where’s the others?”

“Around. Some Firsties bribed Cujo with donuts and dressed him in Hufflepuffs colors to go watch the Goblet.” When Harry looked confused, Neville explained further. “They’ve made a whole cheering squad for whenever a Hufflepuffs decides to step forward, it’s pretty cute.”

“Huh. Explains Cedric being embarrassed I guess.”

Once he was cleaned up, Harry eyed Neville. His best friend and brother and boyfriend and any number of words that people had decided to label them with. Neville eyed him back suspiciously. 

“...what now?”

“I get that sex is off the table cause blah blah blah,” flapping his hand to toss the often recited reason aside, “but how come handjobs are banned too? You want me to touch you, you know it and I know it, so how come we can’t?”

Neville sighed. “Because I’m not comfortable doing something that the other boys would know, maybe even see if we aren’t careful, and nor do I want to do something so.. intimate.. in places we’d have to sneak off too or feel rushed. It may not be a big deal for you, but it is for me.”

 _That_ made a hell of a lot more sense than all the ‘too young’ nonsense. Harry could respect this reason. He’d pout, but he could respect it. Nodding slowly, “alright. So does that mean no more teasing?” He couldn’t help the raised eyebrow as Neville hesitated, and even blushed a little.

“...some teasing is fine. I like when you get.. uhh… close. Just don’t be pushy, alright?”

“Alright.”

Well that was easy. Harry had his well defined limits to toe at, and that made a world of difference to him. Nothing worse than foggy rules that tripped you up at the worst times. Neville was looking relieved too, having finally gotten it off his chest. 

“So… want to go find the others?”

“Yeah. Everyone is in the Entrance Hall, you said?”

Very nearly. People were camped out up and down the stairs to cheer on their favorites, and while the Gryffindors got the loudest cheers, the Firstie Hufflepuffs were hands down the cutest. Cujo was decked out in a yellow and black scarf and wore a badger-fur hat on his head very gently sticky-charmed to his large head. White stripes had also been painted on his face and he was pretty funny looking, this Guardian of the Firsties.

“Tell me someone got pictures,” looking the beast over. 

“Many,” nodded a happy redhead with the roundest pigtails ever seen outside of a PowerPuffGirls cartoon and he now dubbed her Princess. “We didn’t give him too many sweets,” she added anxiously. Harry just patted her on the head and moved on because he’d take it out of Cujo’s hide if the dog got fat, not some tiny First Year. The beast was a full grown mutt who should know better after all. 

It was easy for Harry to spot who had put their name in the cup, they had this extra ring of silver around them as soon as the piece of paper fluttered below the rim of the cup. And going by how it was stronger on some people and barely there at all on others, Harry thought he’d even have a good guess on who had the better chance at being chosen.

Seated on a step next to Hannah and one below Neville who leaned on his shoulders, Harry started to feel uneasy with each flare of light. Every time the cup accepted a name, the buzzing in the back of his head got stronger. More irritated. Harry rubbed at his forehead as his head started to ache.

He was starting to get a very bad feeling about this. What were the chances that Slender would have to come over and fight off Fae magic trying to claim Harry as its own, the same night that a magic Fae cup that ate names had been turned on? Not very fucking likely.

“Has anyone not of age tried to go through?”

“Oh yes, many. They all got pushed back out of the circle and given massive beards. The Weasley twins got the best though, they looked almost exactly like Dumbledore!”

The twins? Behind him he heard Neville scoff and he echoed the sentiment. 

“Anyone try to put someone _else's_ name in?”

“Not that anyone has admitted. Which is a little worrying, since the teachers aren’t even checking the slips before they’re tossed in.”

Harry started to lean to the side with the intent on putting his head on Hannah’s shoulders, but he got interrupted mid-lean by Neville wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders. Alright, fine, he’d lean back against Neville’s legs instead. Not like they were any bonier than Hannah’s scrawny shoulder, heh.

All the Seventh Year Gryffindors were intent on being Champion it seemed, and a good portion of the Sixth. Slytherin was next in number of people, but the Ravenclaws were the most serious about it, marching up with grim and determined expressions as they added their names. There was a smattering of Hufflepuffs of course, but they were in the minority. And there was some bristling among the watchers as a couple Gyrffindors were heard to comment that if a Hufflepuff was chosen to be the School Representative, they’d hang themselves.

Rude.

Harry had no idea what to do with his suspicions of someone putting his name in the cup. He had no evidence, none that he could say publicly that is, and nothing but a night of bad sleep to use as proof in private. Neville might believe him… but what would that do?

“Hey Nev?” Waiting for a noise of acknowledgement, “I think I should go talk to Flitwick.”

“Now?”

“Yeah… I think.. we should go now. Before I forget.”

“Sure. He’ll probably be in his office upstairs.” Neville loosened his grip around Harry and stood up, soon taking Harry’s elbow to help him stand up without tripping over Hannah or the people further down. Harry wiggled his fingers at Hannah in farewell, which she returned half heartedly. Each of her fingernails had not only been painted a delicate pink, but every finger had a different design. That was not the look of someone who was all that interested in heckling the Champion wannabes, but she was content to sit with Susan and Roger until they got bored of it all.

Picking their way around bodies and feet, Neville waited till they were mostly clear of extra ears to ask- “So what do we need to see Flitwick for all of a sudden?”

“Mm… I just have a couple questions.” And then because Neville always deserved the full truth, “remember when I said Slender was mad at some Fae magic trying to infect me? It only started last night, and the cup is slathered in Fae magic, and you have to put your name in to be claimed by it and…”

Out loud it sounded a lot sillier. Harry was almost certain that was why his head felt like a giant gong, but he had no idea how to tell other people this and not sound like a loonie.

Neville wasn’t just ‘other people’ though, and Harry had forgotten that. He started nodding his head as Harry rambled, and “you think someone put _your_ name in?” At Harry’s wide eyes, Neville tapped the side of his own head with a finger. “I can feel his irritation. Not very well, but I can feel it and it would make sense that he’d be here for something like that.” Neville paused. Verbally and physically, feet coming to a stop in the hallway.

“He’s not… _actually here_ … is he?”

Harry took pity on the now-pale Neville and cheerfully nudged him with a shoulder. “Nah, he’d not just start wandering Hogwarts like a nutty professor. He’s not that big on crowds.”

“Right. Right…” Neville still didn’t look happy, but he was walking again. “I know we can’t tell Flitwick any of that, which means we’re going to have to lean pretty heavily on the aura thing. If you can see the magic from the Goblet on people and yourself, that might help lean him into listening.”

Neville was right. From the very start of Harry fumbling his way through the explanation of how he felt and why, the tiny Professor sat up straight. His eyebrows slowly came together in a deep frown the more Harry talked, which was a relief because that meant he was taking it seriously. They hoped.

“The first problem is that while **I** know Harry here can see magic and auras, I’m not sure that will convince the teachers, or the officials in charge. And while I can expect a couple to be willing to listen, that brings us to the other problem- if your name has been placed into the cup, then that’s it. There’s nothing we can do. It would have to be your full name written in your own hand, which admittedly might be difficult to acquire, but if you can feel the magic latching onto you then, obviously, whoever it was succeeded. Until the cup makes its choice later tonight, we can only hope your name isn’t the one to come out.”

“That can’t be it,” Neville struggled to get out after his jaw dropped. “Someone put Harry’s name in the Goblet, and that’s… you can’t do _anything_?”

Flitwick rubbed his fingers against his chin, gaze going off into the distance. “The rules were explained explicitly to us over the summer, ‘whoever is chosen by the Goblet of Fire, must participate or else the consequences will be dire’. That’s why we installed the age line to protect you. I did ask about a guard placed on the cup, but I was convinced that the Prefect patrols would be enough to chase any wanderers away..”

Harry glanced to the side. Neville’s expression was one of someone who’d just been told 3+3=7 and he was running some serious mental calculations to try and figure out how that answer had been achieved by what was presumably one of the smartest people in the entire school.

Flitwick noticed it too, and winced. “In hindsight I should have insisted on further restrictions, but Dumbledore can be very convincing when he wants to be. After the fuss last year with the Dementors, Dumbledore felt having anyone from the Ministry to guard the Goblet would be seen as once again overreacting.”

Neville put his hand on top of Harry’s, stopping it from creeping up his left sleeve. “But that’s… what if there are other students involved? What if Luna’s name was placed into the cup by someone who hated her? Or a Firstie?”

Flitwick winced a second time with his eyes scrunching up miserably. “I’m sorry Neville. I believe you two, I really do. It’s a nasty prank to pull on anyone who doesn’t wish to be involved, but the fact remains- there’s nothing that can be changed. The Goblet of Fire is an ancient artifact, and being of Fae origin makes the situation even worse, we can’t just turn it off as we please. All we can do is hope that Harry, or anyone else unwilling, is not chosen to be Champion.”

“But!” In what was an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, the small Professor beamed at the two boys, “if there was anyone who could get through a Tri-wizard Tournament, it would be young Mister Harry Potter, right here. I’ve seen what you can do Harry,” with a little wink, ”and I have no doubts you’d steal the show.”

His smile wobbled as Neville stared at him with a stoney expression. Harry looked contemplative, but as the silence continued on, Flitwick started to think over his own words and his smile slipped away into something more pensive. Harry had destroyed classrooms, fixed others back to near-new condition, and blown the head off a Basilisk… All of them by accident. And when you counted the things he’d done on _purpose_.. Well.

If Harry was chosen as the Hogwarts’ Champion, then they might have more to worry about than just Harry’s life being at risk. He could be very… _free spirited_ in his concerns about public safety. 

“Err… perhaps I should have a talk with Pomona and Severus about this matter. No need to make things any more complicated, but I think they’d deserve to know about the smallest of chances of something going wrong. And cheer up boys, the chances of Harry being chosen is..” Actually pretty good. Harry was powerful and strong willed, exactly what a Champion would need. “...minimal.”

Thankfully, that proved to be true, and it was with a sigh of relief that Flitwick and Sprout started to clap their hands and cheer for Cedric Diggory, the Official Hogwarts Champion. “Couldn’t have chosen better myself,” Flitwick whispered to the side at the widely beaming Sprout. “Looks like we worried for no-”

Then the Goblet’s flames flared a fourth time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> The comments have been pretty funny, but I didn't actually intend for this to be a cliffhanger. Foreboding maybe, or worthy of a faceplam considering poor Flitwick, but not an actual 'who is it?' My bad! So uh, to be clear, yes Harry's name did come out of the goblet. See you next time! :D


	14. Wot, Fisticuffs?

It was a poorly kept secret that it took a lot for Neville Longbottom to lose his temper. With a friend like Harry, people said, he’d _have_ to have a long fuse or else he’d be screaming all day long. Of course he did get frustrated, and he could be grumpy in the morning just like any other person, but to see Neville honestly blow up at someone took a hell of a lot of effort.

Case point, it had taken Ron Weasley almost three years of constant harassment to make Neville abandon the Tower.

It had taken Neville’s Grandmother thirteen years for him to finally blow off her expectations and endlessly nagging.

Harry had to get him nearly eaten by an Eldritch Horror before Neville screamed at him.

However, even with all that in mind, it took only a single poker game for Victor Krum to get himself punched in the face.

**Let’s back up a little….**

After Harry was called away in the middle of class, by Colin Creevey no less, Neville couldn’t help but feel on edge. He didn’t know where Harry had been whisked off too, or for how long, and Professor Sprout herself hadn’t even known a meeting was being held! 

She was the Head of Hufflepuff, a house both the Hogwarts Champions belonged to, and Dumbledore hadn’t seen fit to tell her? _Now_? When the whole school was in an uproar even worse than their second year, with the Gryffindors declaring war (again) on Hufflepuff, the Ravenclaws taking a step back, and Slytherin making things both better and worse (again) by declaring allegiance with the Badgers.. It was a mess. Again. 

But Sprout couldn’t just leave her students unsupervised in the Greenhouse, nor could she scold the Third Year being used as a messenger, so the woman was forced to send Harry off with an unhappy twist to her lips. 

Neville found himself unable to concentrate, tapping his fingers against the clay pot irritably. Harry was perfectly capable of defending himself of course, but his irrational thoughts seemed to be rubbing off on Neville. That and the buzz in the back of Neville’s mind got choppier, sharper, the further away Harry got, and it slowly worsened alongside Neville’s mood. 

Harry was capable, yes, but what if the adults were trying to pressure him into something else? Something more political? Why else wouldn’t they have told Professor Sprout? What if they’d brought in Aurors or the Unspeakables to try breaking the magical hold, and in the process broke Harry’s connection to Slender?

Neville had no idea what that might do, but he couldn’t imagine that the aftermath would be pretty. Harry panicked at the idea of _Neville_ leaving him, what would he do if he felt cut off from the Slender Man?

So Neville fretted. And he had a hell of a lot of time to do so because it was three whole hours before Harry popped up, missing out not only on the rest of Herbology but also History. Which, fair enough he would have slept through anyways, but Neville’s nerves would have been slightly less tattered had Harry been allowed to attend.

Touching Harry’s hand made the constant sizzle in the back of Neville’s mind drop down into a more tolerable purr, so Neville threaded his fingers through Harry’s to keep him in place. “Where on earth have you been?” There were frown lines crossing Harry’s forehead that he resisted the urge to smooth out. Headache most likely.

“The officials wanted to do a fucking safety check on our wands and make sure they work right. And Dumbledore says I have to use my own wand, because somehow a wooden stick chucked at me when I was eleven is more official than one I found later on that actually fucking works.”

Neville had honestly forgotten they’d swapped wands last year. It felt like he’d been using the holly and phoenix feather all his life. True it had been acting up ever since the..uhh… _incident_ over the summer, but..

“So they’d rather you had a wand that barely spits out a few sparks? Perfect,” Neville ground out. “I guess it doesn’t really matter since you prefer wandless magic, but they don’t know that.”

Harry shrugged. “We’ll swap before the fucking competition to make them happy, then I’ll set everything on fire. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if..” Ernie startled both boys who’d forgotten the rest of the Puffs, and he swiftly changed the rest of his sentence as Neville glared at him. “.. that was the entire meeting? Awfully long for just a review of wands.”

“Pictures too, everyone together and separate and then the reporter wanted to do interviews.” Harry rubbed at his forehead with his free hand. “So much stupid talking… She tried to drag me into a fucking broom closet for _my_ interview, but Cedric was a little creeped out by her and wouldn’t allow it. Thank fucking god.”

As if Cedric needed any more points as the Good Guy right now, but Neville grudgingly admitted that it was good to know he’d have Harry’s back in public. Harry and Neville were no strangers to being ostracized by most of the school, but somehow this seemed to be worse than their Second Year with the Basilisk. Maybe it was because now they had national attention, whereas the Basilisk had been kept hush hush?

Neville pulled Harry closer, letting the boy lean against him with a sigh. “Want to go back to the Set?” Neville was happier when Harry was behind safe walls, Sprout was happier when Harry was behind safe walls, everyone in the goddamn school was happier when Harry was tucked away out of sight and they could fawn over Cedric the _right_ and _proper_ Hogwarts Champion. 

But Harry shook his head. “ ‘m sick of being inside, let’s go out to the lake.”

“Now? But it’s so cold. And damp! And it’ll be dark soon,” Hannah protested.

“You’re a witch,” Neville reminded her dryly. “We’ll put up a warming charm and sit on our cloaks.”

“..fine. But it’s your cloak and Harry’s doing the charm.”

“If he wants to.”

Hannah’s side-eye of _are you kidding me_ was left unanswered. Harry loved any spell related to fire, of course he’d be willing to do the charm no matter how pale and tired he looked. They just had to watch out for flames. 

Duh.

It wasn’t all that bad outside either. After Harry worked his will on the damp ground, Susan and Hannah promptly stole all the boys’ cloaks and spread them out in a neat circle to sit on. There was enough wind going on to make the lake water choppy, but another small charm easily blocked it off. The other students were just being lazy, there were plenty of ways to make the outside comfortable!

Once settled in with their various projects and homework, Susan brought up the topic that she always seemed to bring up when things got quiet. Like a dog with a bone, she waited until Harry finished stretching out on the cloaked ground with his head on Neville’s lap, before she gleefully announced-

“The Hogsmeade trip is just after the First Task! I’m pretty sure I know who’s going to ask me on a date, and this would be a great time for you and Neville to finally do it properly, so we can have a double date!”

“What’s even the point of going on a date now? Aren’t we past all that get-to-know each other shit?”

Harry’s tone was merely curious, but Susan had the expression of someone who’d been given a furniture kit and a set of instructions in a foreign language. She had all the pieces, she knew what the end product looked like, but there were just enough extra steps in the process that she was left at a loss on how to continue. And she’d lost the socket wrench somewhere in the unboxing.

She turned to Hannah for help.

Rolling her pretty blue eyes, Hannah sat up straight and snapped her fingers under Harry’s nose until the boy finally cracked his eyes open to look at her. Perfectly comfortable where he was with Neville petting his hair, Harry had no intention of getting up until he had to. 

“You see Harry, there are four reasons for people to go on a date.” Ignoring Susan’s scoff, Hannah held up four fingers for Harry to focus on. “Susan’s idea of a date is the romantic version, but can also be called the Reward Date. When your significant other has done something particularly nice, or has been putting up with some unfavorable situation, you take them out to a place they really, really like as a reward and make sure they have a good time.”

“That is _not_ …”

“Hush, Susan. The second type is the kind used by many people to thin out the herd, to find someone interesting. Those dates can come around by seeing someone you like the looks of but don’t know personally, so you ask them out to lunch or for a coffee, and see how long you can listen to them prattle before your brain starts to dribble out your ears.”

Reasonable enough to Harry, nodding as he watched Hannah fold her fingers down. 

“Third, there’s the Revenge Date. Take someone like Ron Weasley, let’s say that you hate him very, very much, and then find out that a girl he was pining over turned him down. You could go ask that same girl out on a date and flaunt it in Ron’s face. Or in another way, if Neville made you super mad about.. whatever.. you could ask someone else to go with you to Hogsmeade to make him mad in return. It helps if both parties know it’s a revenge date, unless you like getting cried on later when your date finds out it wasn’t a date.”

Harry tilted his head to look up at Neville..

“You’d be bored within minutes,” Neville said to that contemplative look, tugging on a lock of hair. 

“The fourth date is the boring one, it’s to show off. That can be many things, to show off how much money you can spend on someone, to show off who you’re dating- whether it be someone extraordinarily beautiful or hard to please, or… whatever. You don’t really care what you’re doing or who you have with you, so long as people see it happening.”

Hannah folded down her last finger, and finished with “I’m sure Neville qualifies for a Reward Date multiple times over by now, if you ask me. Maybe you should take him to the Botanical store in Hogsmeade, and buy him something pretty to show you appreciate his efforts.”

Harry squinted at her for a moment, then glanced up at Neville again. Reward, huh? Harry could work with that kind of thing. Positive Reinforcement and all that, give Neville some happy feelings to go with his dark magic. “Wanna go buy something poisonous and give Sprout a heart attack?”

“We’d be better off going to the Apothecary for something poisonous. Are you paying?”

Harry grinned toothily. “It’s not a date unless I pay right? So you have my full permission to empty my vault.”

Neville just smiled down at him fondly. “Only the best poisonous plant on the market then. We’ll be tossed in Azkaban by sundown, you have my word.”

While Susan sputtered her rejection of _that_ being called a _date_ , Hannah returned her attention back to her book, completely unbothered by her rather cool summarization of things. Ernie and Justin traded vaguely uncomfortable glances with each other but didn’t comment because.. she was more or less correct wasn’t she? Once you stripped away all the romance and fun out of it. 

Roger, Neville noticed, was studiously not looking at any of them, his gaze focused somewhere out over the lake and the gently bobbing Durmstrang ship. 

Thoughts wandering, Neville continued running his fingers through Harry’s curls while listening to Susan complain over how dating was for _showing affection_ and _building up a relationship for the future_! He supposed that in Susan’s eyes, shopping for a poisonous plant didn’t exactly count as ‘romantic’, but then there were plenty of things Harry didn’t consider romantic either. Flowers? Chocolates? Ha! Harry tolerated Neville holding his hand, and seemed to enjoy the cuddling, but find it _romantic_? Harry didn’t have a romantic bone in his body and it was...

Whatever. Everything was good. It was fine. Just as long as he didn’t go cuddling with other people, Neville could take it. He was going to name their plant the most ridiculous thing ever.

“Is that Blaise?”

Roger’s question cut through what was turning into a decidedly snippy conversation between Susan and Hannah, directing all their eyes to the lake. And yes, it was indeed Blaise walking towards them along the lake edge. The elegant Slytherin looked a bit exasperated at having to come all the way out to the lake on a chilly November day, but managed to not look too irritated by the time he was close enough to talk.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you all. Why on earth are you out here in such weather?”

“The constant staring was getting on our nerves,” Susan sighed. “Hello Blaise, take a seat. The cloaks have cushioning charms so it’s much nicer than it looks.”

Blaise eyed the woolen fabric but left his comments silent as he carefully took the spot between Susan and Ernie as they shuffled further apart. Fixing his own cloak around his legs, Blaise cleared his throat before saying “I assume our Poker game is still arranged for later this evening?”

“Of course. We’re using a little spot Harry found, which is why I told everyone to meet at the stairs to the basement. We need to stay near the Set because if we miss curfew Professor Sprout will come looking for us and that would ruin everything.”

Blaise nodded. “Right, of course. Especially right now, she’ll want to be able to keep an eye on Harry. The reason I was looking for you however… might I extend an invitation to another student?”

“Err… we already have a lot of people, too many more would get unwieldy. It’s not exactly another party after all.” 

“Theo cannot come tonight,” Blaise added promptly, making Susan’s face fall. “So they would be taking his place.”

“Umm…” Susan put aside her disappointment to run a few mental calculations. The plan for tonight had been for three Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws, two Slytherins… Seven was a good standard for Poker so if they weren’t actually adding anyone.. “...who did you want to invite? It was supposed to be a friendly game, with the usual players. Why didn’t Theo say anything when I told him yesterday?”

“He’s willing to bow out for this. What if I said Victor Krum wanted to come play cards with us?”

Blaise had clearly expected a bigger response than what he got. The Puffs, excluding Harry who had closed his eyes and appeared to be napping, started to exchange little glances ranging from dubious to suspicious to.. no, Ernie looked a little more excited than the rest though he squashed it quickly enough. 

“With everything that’s been going on, you really think that’s a good idea?” Susan asked.

“Well… I mean… it’d be good for him to see Harry as something other than a cheat, wouldn’t it? I know Cedric has been announcing his belief in Harry’s name being a badly done prank, but he’s in Harry’s House. It’s expected of him. If we can get other people to think the same..”

“By bringing Krum to a card game infamous for it’s bluffing and lying?”

“…yes.”

“Harry won’t even be playing,” Neville reminded her. “So let Krum come if he really wants. Worse that happens is he leaves thinking the same thoughts he came in with, right? We’ll have his money either way.”

“It’s only candy tonight,” Susan wagged a finger at him. “We only take money from strangers, not our friends. I did not stock up on boxes of Beans for you to irritate my best Ravenclaws. This is a _friendly_ game,” she insisted.

“Ha. Poker is never friendly.”

Neville had to wonder what on earth had Blaise done to convince a seventeen year old, internationally famous sports star, to come play Poker with a handful of fourteen year olds. Was it for Harry, who couldn’t have cared less? Was it for Blaise himself, to show off his connections? 

Krum didn’t look like he knew either, looking around the odd little room taken over for the Poker game. The burly boy wasn’t exactly handsome, but he had the wide shoulders and broad jaw to make girls swoon even before taking into account his fame. Which balanced out his rolling way of walking, as if he was so used to being on a broom he’d forgotten how his feet worked.

Blaise had seen the odd little amphitheater room before, so he managed to keep his cool unlike Susan’s Ravenclaws who just about lost their minds over being able to explore a room no one had seen in.. decades? Centuries? While they started chattering to each other about the ancient runes that marked the stone, Krum stared at the altar-like table suspiciously.

“Vere are ve?”

“Really old classroom, meant to train future Healers,” Blaise quickly replied. “It’s quite close to the kitchen, but we won’t be interrupted since no one comes this way.”

“...ah.”

Krum didn’t look an iota less suspicious. He watched with narrow eyes as Susan started to unpack a basket at the alta- table. Just a table. A stone table with rune markings of preservation. Won’t that keep their snacks and drinks nice and fresh? Moving on.. Lisa Turpin and Michael Corner trailed their fingers over the table and compared it to their recent studies of Ancient Runes. A handful of wooden stools had been sourced from somewhere, and Roger claimed one as his own to sit down and break out the brand new card decks still wrapped in paper. 

Harry glanced at the grim-faced sports star and rolled his eyes. “I’ma be up there,” jerking a thumb to the tiered seating surrounding the open floor. “And I’m taking the dog, so enjoy your stupid card game.”

Neville didn’t take the grumbled comment personally, just did the thing he’d been doing quite a lot lately- kissed Harry on the temple. “If you get too bored, give Cujo a shave. I’ve been finding his fur _everywhere_.”

“Hmm…” 

The big black dog growled at Harry, showing off some pearly white fangs. Harry smacked him on the head and wandered off to the sides of the room and the ringed seating. He’d brought his backpack and could do some sketching. He’d been neglecting it, the inspiration had been seriously lacking lately, but as he looked at the smooth stone benches.. and climbed a few tiers higher to put himself above eye level… this had potential.

Neville knew Harry was up to something, but he put it aside for the time being. He and Michael, the sleight-of-hand card enthusiast, had a little pre-game fun while Susan set up, to see who could do the fanciest card shuffle. Using Exploding Snap cards took a very delicate touch, but at least neither could be accused later on of palming from the regular deck.

“This is why we only play for candy,” Susan told Kr- Victor, in a dry tone. “He’d wipe us out clean down to our underwear without even meaning to. We know he’s not cheating because-”

“ _I_ am,” Michael supplied happily. He waved a singed-looking card at Susan before making it vanish from his hand like magic. Muggle Magic that is, Neville was sure it’d been tucked into his watchband.

Susan glared at him. “Neville’s not a cheater because we’ve splurged on a charmed Anti-Cheat deck a couple of times, and he still won most of them through sheer luck. And ignore Michael, he thinks he’s funny,” turning back to Victor with a little sniff. 

“Besides, even if he was, that’s the fun of the game!” Lisa picked up while rubbing her hands together. “I’ve been practicing my bluffs, and I’m determined to break all my tells.”

“Then you should work on how often you blink,” Blaise smirked. Without Harry around the Slytherin tended to be more relaxed, though he’d started to treat Neville more and more delicately lately with odd little glances aimed his way.

Speaking of, Victor was giving Blaise a side-eyed glance of his own, but eventually the near-Adult shrugged. “Vell then, shall ve begin? To play cards on a ritual table, maybe ve’ll call something interesting to liven things up.”

“Ritual…?”

Krum looked at them for a long moment, then realization dawned across his face. “Ah. Yes. You English have denounced them, vat a pity. ...vell. Most of you.”

The cryptic comment left the younger students confused, though one or two thought they knew what he meant. Susan glared, thinking he meant the actions of Voldemort. Durmstrang was rumored to be _Dark_ after all. Blaise shifted uneasily in his seat as he assumed Viktor meant Harry and the rumors that had been flying around. Neville _knew_ Viktor meant Harry, but the why of it he couldn’t say. He just noticed the older teen glancing up past his shoulder to where Harry was camped out on the stone seats. 

A short, but knowing glance that left Neville bristling.

“Ah, well you shouldn’t believe everything you’ve heard,” Blaise tried to keep his tone light. “Harry isn’t nearly as..” He paused, looking for the right word.

“Neurotic?”

“Feral?”

“Evil?”

“Blood-thirsty?”

"... _exasperating_ , as the papers say he is," Blaise finished his thought, looking at his fellow students as if they were the ones gone insane. _Shut. Up_. he told them with his eyes.

Viktor only shrugged again. “He vas chosen by the Goblet, vas he not? So he must be something for so many to talk about him. Is that not vy you invited me here, to show me my competition and make me feel nervous?”

Susan looked one word away from throwing a box of Bertie Bott’s Beans at his head. “Don’t be an ass. You were invited,” throwing Blaise a dirty look, “because we thought you’d be tired of being followed everywhere by your fans. Forgive us if we were trying to be a little sympathetic!”

“You drag me off to a suspicious room, vere no one vill find us, vile he does suspicious things up there?” Now Krum pointed up at Harry, where the Badger was cheerfully ignoring them all as he scribbled on the stone tier itself. That Viktor used the hand holding his wand to do so had Neville scowling.

“Do _not_. Aim your wand. At Harry,” Neville said quietly.

“Or vat? Vill he cheat again and try to sabotage me? I am not some veak lamb led to a slaughter. I will defend myself against attack.”

“ _Lower your wand_.”

“ _Make me_ ,” Krum sneered. His contempt was clear, and he swung his wand to point not at Harry, but at Neville now, inches from his face. “Vy should I-”

It was over in moments, Neville snatched the Bulgarian's wand with his left hand, and came around with a punishing right-hook with his other, snapping the older boy's head to the side so quickly he went down with a crash of the wooden stool hitting the floor.

"I _said_ to lower your wand."

The room went utterly silent until from the side of the room, the only snake in the bunch muttered a complaining- "Well... shit."

Susan snorted, hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Should have just brought Theo, Blaise.”

Neville waited to see if Krum was going to get up, before glancing back over his shoulder. Harry was quietly sitting on the top tier now, with his chin in his hands. When he noticed Neville looking back, Harry flashed a toothy grin down at him with a thumbs up.

“Uhh… guys? What are we going to do with an unconscious Champion?” Lisa wanted to know with a half raised hand as if they were in class, while Michael restlessly shuffled the cards hand to hand beside her. The Badgers and Ravens glanced between each other uneasily as no easy answer presented itself before turning almost as one to stare at the sole Slytherin.

Blaise groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

It figured. It really did. These people were _nuts_ and never appreciated the gifts he gave them..

“We’ll take him to Snape and tell him Krumm tripped over Cujo on the stairs or something,” Blaise decided. “Snape hates Cujo, so he’d be willing to blame international wars on him.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> This prob'ly could/should have been two chapters but dammit even I wanted to get to the Dragon at some point. So enjoy this monster of a chaoter and know that the next update has DRAGONS. I'm excited.


	15. Wash your mouth out

The day had come. 

Most of the school were breathless with anticipation, and moaned how they’d have to wait until after lunch to see the big reveal. Some smaller groups in the school were.. slightly less than thrilled. 

“I don’t think my nerves can take much more of this…” Hannah complained. “Are you _sure_ you’re ready? Have you gone over the notes Susan gave you? It’s _supposed_ to be some sort of creature in an act of bravery facing the unknown…”

Harry flapped a hand at her. He was less concerned about the stressed out Puffs and the upcoming event, and more concerned with the hook Susan was using on his hair. Standing behind him with hair pins sticking out of the corner of her mouth, Susan was trying to tame his curls without resorting to violence, and she was using said hook to weave strands of hair into the most intricate braid yet. Seriously. A hook. A bent metal stick with a wooden handle.

It didn’t take long for Neville to pick up on his nervous twitching every time Susan poked at Harry’s head with the metal stick to catch and drag a chunk of hair into place.

“Uh… Susan?” 

“Mmm?”

“You know that magic works on Harry’s hair, right?”

The girl paused, frowning down at the mass of curls. “Mmmm?”

“You used a potion to make it longer,” Neville reminded her in a perfectly reasonable tone. “Surely you’ve realized that if a potion can work, then you can use other hair spells?”

“....mmmf!” Susan spat out the hairpins she’d been holding between her teeth, in a move that was so unladylike that Roger’s eyebrows nearly rose up into his hairline. “You mean I’ve been fighting with this mess for _months_ and I could have just _charmed_ it into place? Do you know how hard I’ve been _practicing_?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ernie supplied hastily. “Hair is delicate, you can’t just throw spells on it without cause.”

“How is that any different from the stuff you use every day…?” Justin asked curiously. 

“It… just is!”

Harry tapped at Neville’s foot with his own, grinning as the Puffs started to squabble over what counted as too much magic, and whether a potion was better than a charm. Who cared? It was all magic! Neville managed a half-smile back, reaching to take up Harry’s hand to play with his fingers. Thumb rubbing small circles against Harry’s palm-

“Going to be able to keep lunch down?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I? I’ve been craving barbeque lately though, so who knows what’ll be appetizing. We should make a grill out by the lake and cook up something good.”

“After the task,” Neville promised. “Maybe some venison.”

Harry sighed heavily, a long and drawn out sound of exaggerated resignation. “Fiiine.”

Even as he smiled, Neville felt his stomach clench and he wondered if _he_ would be able to keep lunch down. He, and Harry he was sure, had woken up this morning to a more prominent buzz in their brains, which meant Slender was around and Neville did _kind of_ feel a little better about it..? But if the Eldritch hadn’t been able to keep the Fae magic from claiming Harry in the first place, what could he do to help in the task it set?

An annoyed crackle made Neville flinch, and he hastily returned his thoughts to less controversial matters. Though he nearly crushed Harry’s fingers in his tight grip when Susan suddenly drew her wand and pointed it at Harry’s head. Teeth clamped tightly against a snarl, Neville waited until the half-finished braid snapped into formation with a neatly tied bow on the end. 

“ _Susan_.”

“Hmm? Oh.. err… Sorry Neville. Didn’t mean to startle you,” throwing him a sheepish little smile.

“LUNCH!”

The sudden shriek woke Cujo under the table and his head hit the bottom of the furniture with a hefty thud. 

“Can you _not_?” Harry complained while ducking under the table to check on the mutt. “Poor baby. Are you bleeding?” Wait this wasn’t Mimi… “Why the fuck are you sleeping under there anyways? Get out!” Harry wasn’t allowed to take anything extra with him, and since Mimi couldn’t promise to not attack something attacking Harry, the little snake was tucked into her teapot for the afternoon. Cujo would be sitting in the stands with his House of course, unless the beast had brained himself thanks to Hannah.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m a little nervous. Shall we head to lunch? We should go. You need to eat Harry! But eat lightly! Eat a salad!”

“Yes mother.”

Lunch in the Great Hall was alright. Lots of food, lots of people, blah blah blah. Harry looked over the table for something interesting, but sadly the more unusual foregn foods seemed to be saved for Dinner-time only. Harry pouted over the loss of the delicious buttery snails and helped himself to a giant ham sandwich instead. 

Neville was envious of how easily Harry could ignore people staring and talking about him, but he’d already brought up the fact ages ago that Harry didn’t exactly see other people as ‘real’ so it wasn’t a surprise. Annoying, but not surprising.

…and not too much longer after that, Sprout stepped down from the high table to collect both her boys, Harry and Cedric, to escort them out of the hall. Harry threw Neville one last grin before vanishing from sight, and Neville tried not to hyperventilate. Much as he tried, he just couldn’t find the same unconcerned calm Harry had dug up from his infuriatingly random psyche.

Neville might have felt a little better if he knew exactly how flabbergasted Boy was feeling at the beginning of the tournament. His head slowly tilting back as he looked up, and up, _and up_ at the massive beast crouched at the far end of the arena. 

Soooo… dragons. Yeah. As far as he could tell they weren’t related to snakes no matter how much the Mother hissed at him. Mimi had tried to tell him about the Ancients in the forest..? But since she used that same term for all the _snakes_ she met, you’ll have to forgive Harry for being confused at pulling a dragon out the bag.

Boy suddenly felt a thread of uneasiness run through his body.

Not that he was exactly alone out here. Not really. So long as he didn’t turn his head to break the illusion, he could almost feel the cold pale hands resting on his shoulders as the Slender Man observed the situation with him. A giant stone arena, stands filled with observers that Boy swiftly tuned out for more important things, big ass dragon with a nest of eggs she was protecting..

_Caution_ , urged the Eldritch in a staticy blurr. _Think_. 

Dragons were hard to take down, Boy tried to recall from DADA last year, because their scales protected them like armor. That was why dragonhide was so popular for boots and heavy duty robes. 

Dragons breathed fire, as evidenced by the Mother spewing a stream of it into the sky in her anger. 

Dragons could usually fly, but not when chained to the ground like she was.

Unlike the other three, this dragon had massive spikes on her tail. Thus the name.

Boy tilted his head to the side as he went back to the first bit. Dragon scales were all but impossible to get through without a lot of help. The _scales_. He felt his lips twist up into a grin, all nervousness slipping away while he laughed. The Slender man retreated, not so far he couldn’t keep an eye on things but he wasn’t so strongly _there_ anymore and Boy could start plotting in peace. 

Holding Neville’s wand loosely in his fingers, Boy advanced a few yards into the arena and pointed the stick at the dragon. Not that he actually used it, Boy pushed his magic out in a heavy cloud without bothering to channel it.

“Scourgify!”

Ron’s dried, cracking skin.

“ _Scourgify_!”

Flitwick’s handkerchief, scrubbed clean of it’s charms and embroidery.

“ _ **Scourgify**_!”

All the hallways scrubbed to their base stone, the curtains he’d destroyed, the magic he’d ripped away from carpets…

He didn’t pay attention to the crowd howling around him, he only paid attention to the beast rearing back and fixing her eyes on him as Boy advanced further into the arena and scrubbed her with steel-wool will and stubbornness.

It was working too. Scales began to flake off and fall to the ground at the Mother’s feet, leaving the beast looking like she contracted mange all around her neck. Boy considered the spotty skin, and shook his head. A little more scrubbing just to be certain.. See, he wasn’t trying to blast the scales off, he wasn’t trying to blast through the scales either, he was merely trying to get her as clean as possible. And if that scrubbed a few scales loose then… that was her problem, wasn’t it? Not enough vegetables in her diet, for sure.

“ _Dif_ \- holy shit!”

Boy danced backwards as the Mother got fed up with his antics, snaking her head back and then snapping it forward to vomit fire at him in a long, steady stream of bright heat. It enveloped Boy in a stinging embrace and he felt his hair and coat whip out behind him. 

“...cool.”

He’d nearly pissed himself. Boy wasn’t sure if it was Slender’s influence and careful grip on his magic, or if Boy’s story of being a Demonic Priest-thing was really taking off, but as much as the fire stung and made his skin feel prickly it didn’t actually _hurt_. 

He’d have to check his hair later for split ends, but… huh.

When the flames died down, Boy blinked up at the dragon owlishly, trying to get rid of the spots in his vision. 

“Bitch. I almost felt bad about this but screw you too. _**Diffindo**_!”

The simple but seriously overpowered cutting charm carved deeply into the bare spots across the dragon’s throat and let loose a river of blood that hit the ground with a steaming sizzle, flooding the arena center. The dragon tried to roar, tried to spit more fire, but mostly just gurgled and slowly sank to the stone floor until with one final whimper, she went still.

Just like that.

The silence was deafening, the crowd going nearly as still and quiet as the dead dragon herself. Boy huffed out a breath, making the hair that had fallen over his eyes stir. Looked like the hair tie hadn’t survived the dragon fire… weird. Ah hell, this had been his favorite fucking coat dammit! 

Looking down at his almost-bare arms in dismay, Boy almost forgot he was still supposed to get the golden egg. But look at him! He looked awful! The sleeves of his best hoody were now covered in scorch marks and random holes big enough for a couple fingers. Right along with his jeans. He looked like.. like a weird, ash-covered... punk. In bare feet! She had MELTED his FUCKING BOOTS! 

...could leather melt? Burned then, she’d burned away his fucking boots!

Picking up one foot then the other, he shook the ashy scraps of leather from his feet. Boy swore under his breath as he made his way through the puddles of steaming blood, feeling it squelch between his toes, climbing over the dragon’s legs to get to the nest she thankfully had NOT collapsed on top of. The eggs looked perfectly peachy considering the mess, and the golden one gleamed in the sunlight. Stupid thing had to be real gold because it was heavy as fuck as he lifted it out of the nest. 

Getting back to his feet, Boy sort of just.. wandered towards the exit like he’d been told, where his Head of House was waiting alongside his personal physician.

_Good_ , rumbled Slender. The wave of approval nearly had Boy blushing, barely managing to tamp it down before he embarrassed himself in front of the school. 

The crowds of students and visitors, he noted absently, were still silent. Pretty sure he hadn’t gone deaf, and Boy looked over the stands until he found the yellow and black of the Hufflepuffs. He paused long enough to wave at them, hoping Neville was somewhere in the mass, and left the arena.

Up in said stands, Neville made a small but decided nod. “...I’m going to kill him. He used a cleaning charm? _Seriously_?” 

Hannah squeaked. Both her hands were wrapped around Neville’s arm so tightly he couldn’t actually feel it anymore, her knuckles a bloodless white. On her other side, Susan peeked through her fingers before squeezing them shut again. 

“I’m going to be sick,” she moaned.

Around them, people started shifting in their seats and whispering to each other. No one seemed willing to break the hush that had fallen, staring at the fallen dragon. It had taken five handlers to get her into the arena and only one tiny teenager to take her down. Using spells every student learned in their Second Year.

Harry Potter was _terrifying_.

Heh. Said boy giggled quietly to himself, having never seen such an expression on Sprout’s face, the woman pale as milk with eyes nearly perfectly round. The professor motioned for Harry to come closer and to follow her out of the arena gate. Snape swiftly flanked his other side, looking ill in the brief moment Harry had to see his face, before he was pulled into a crushing hug by Sprout. Upon releasing him the woman gave him a rough patting down as if to make sure all his limbs were still attached. Then hugged him again.

Snape almost sounded hesitant in asking, “you are.. unharmed?”

“I guess. Lost my fucking boots, so I stubbed my toes on a rock or two, ” glancing up at the tall man. “The eggs weren’t harmed, so I can’t be disqualified can I?”

The man’s face spasmed through a series of complex expressions and it was fascinating. 

“...get in the tent, Potter.”

Sprout released Harry a second time and kept an arm across his shoulders as she led the way.

The other three champions were already there being looked after by Pomfrey, and while Harry was the one splattered in blood, Fleur and Cedric were the ones coated in burn ointment. Krum looked the best of the bunch, other than the dirty look he gave Harry. What? Had Harry finished faster or something? Or was this still about Neville’s _gorgeous_ right hook? Whatever, Krum’s black eye had been healed within moments and nothing else had happened, so why the hell was he still upset?

Fucking rude..

“S’up guys?”

Shoved into a curtained-off cove, Snape grabbed Harry’s wrists and pulled his sleeves up. There wasn’t a mark to be seen even under the areas his beloved hoody had been burnt away. Snape stared hard at the smooth, healthy skin, then closed his eyes for a long moment.

“Yanno, if I _had_ been injured? That would have fucking hurt a hell lot,” Harry mused. Had Snape been _worried_ about him? _Why_?

“Shut up, Potter. Clean yourself up so that we may continue this farce.”

With that, his medical care resorted to nothing more than being given a basin of warm water to wash the blood off his feet and calves and a pair of slippers for afterwards. Snape declined the offer Harry made about saving it, Dragon Blood had to be expensive right?, and left Harry alone to discuss something with Sprout in a low murmur. 

...now that he was alone at last, Harry flopped backwards onto the provided cot and closed his eyes. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. At the time it’d happened, seeing the fire blasting towards him like an explosion, Boy hadn’t been afraid. Startled, yes. Confused, yes. Afraid? No. That.. was... not a normal reaction was it? Sure he’d been playing around with fire for ages now and he liked the feeling it gave his magic, but to stand there and get it in the face? 

Unless Slender Man had decided to eat his fear in case it incapacitated his ability to think logically, Boy had to wonder if he was a teensy bit more sociopathic than he’d thought. Something to ponder later perhaps, because footsteps were heading his way in a soft shuffle against the ground.

Harry launched himself upright and grabbed the slippers, pulling them on just as Sprout poked her head around the partitioning. “Ready dear?”

“Yup! All good!” 

“This way then, come along.” She put her hand on his shoulder and walked him to where the others stood. Cedric looked much cleaner without all the orange goop, though Fleur’s hair had an amusing tinge of color to the ends. 

“Y’all right there Harry?” Cedric the Noble wanted to know, looking him over. 

Harry threw him a thumbs up and soon found himself sandwiched between Sprout and Cedric as they faced down the judges. After some grandstanding later with fancy ribbons and numbers.. Krum was awarded 40 out of 50 points, because he’d damaged his eggs. Cedric 38, because his transfiguration hadn’t lasted long enough for him to get out safely. While Fleur got 36 because… something about getting herself caught on fire? The scores seemed a bit wonky but Harry shrugged.

If the headmasters wanted to be biased for their Champions, that was their right.

Except for some reason those same Headmasters and the Ministry officials hesitated over Harry’s score, trading glances with each other without saying anything aloud.

Finally, reluctantly, Dumbledore stood up with a rather grim expression on his face. “As for Mister Potter, taking into account his speed and... _ingenuity_...” The crowd seemed to collectively hold their breath as the pause went on longer than it really should have.. before one by one the Judges coughed up a shimmering gold number. 

45 points. Only Dumbledore seemed to think Harry didn’t deserve a full 10, oddly enough.

The cheering from the stands was a trifle wobbly, but the Hufflepuff portion of the crowd took it up with vigor. Especially once Cedric put his hand on Harry’s other shoulder and smiled at him. “Good job Harry.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied dryly with a side-eyed glance. Then shrugged again. Maybe behind closed doors the boy screamed and threw things around the room in a fit of rage, Boy wouldn’t judge him for trying to look cool and collected in front of the public.

His friends were waiting for him by the gate, right along with a crowd of other people, and it was Hannah he spotted first with her long blonde hair. She almost crashed into Krum as she darted between bodies, but managed to screech to a halt at the last second. The Bulgarian scowled down at her but just as he opened his mouth to say something.. Hannah, in the most blatant fashion imaginable, carefully looked him up and then down, before wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Krum was left to stand there looking entirely offended and a little bit flabbergasted as the pretty blonde ducked around him in order to reach her goal of hugging Harry tightly.

“Harry! Oh, we thought you were going to DIE. Never, ever do that again, you awful boy! I’ll never forgive you!”

There was a FLASH of light that Harry knew quite well, but instead of Colin it was the damned reporter from the stupid interview and wand checking event. Harry staggered as Hannah shoved him away to turn and jab a painted finger at the woman. 

“The entire Abbot family will sue you blind if you even _attempt_ to slander me in that ridiculous paper of yours! My Grandmother would eat you alive!”

Nose firmly stuck in the air, Hannah linked her arm through Harry’s and dragged him off under Sprout’s amused gaze. People scattered like leaves to give Harry a path, nervously converging on Cedric to off their congratulations once the smaller Badger was past. That was alright, he didn’t _want_ their shouts and slaps on the back, and for fucks sake there was going to be a party in the Badger Set tonight. Would he crash it by showing up, or look petulant if he skipped? Did he even care?

Catching sight of the rest of his yearmates, Harry sighed in relief. “ _Nev_.” 

The flashing eyes were less than friendly, but Neville pulled Harry close nonetheless. “For fucks sake Harry! Of all the spells you know, you chose to _wash_ the dragon?”

Today seemed to be a hugging day. Cool. Harry buried his nose into Neville’s collar and closed his eyes. None of Hannah’s perfume to offend his nose, none of Sprout’s motherly gentleness, this was a hug he could enjoy.

“You smell like a badly-cleaned hearth,” Neville muttered into his hair. 

“...fuck you too,” Harry grinned. That was all they were able to exchange as Susan wanted her hug now, but at least the other boys were happy to stick to firm handshakes and a small pat on the back. 

Last, and certainly least, Cujo planted himself in front of Harry and commenced to give him a piece of his mind in the form of growls, barks, and even a howl or two. 

“I will skin you alive and give your fur to Snape,” Harry threatened. And then had to yank his hand out of reach as Cujo lunged forward with bared teeth and amazing how something so cuddly with the First Years could have such _huge_ fangs. “Bad dog! BAD DOG! I’m going to feed you to the Choir Toads! Hey! I’m talking to you!” 

“WOOF!”

“This is why people doubt your sanity.” With a hand against Harry’s lower back, Neville firmly pushed Harry towards the school, not batting an eye as Harry tried to kick the dog. After the show back in the arena, everyone should know that if Harry truly meant any harm to Cujo, then he’d be able to do so before anyone could raise a wand against it. 

Maybe that would stop some of the gossip going around? If Harry _could_ but he _didn’t_ , that had to be a sign of restraint and good moral standing right?

HAH. 

That was giving the average Hogwarts student far too much credit but Neville could dream.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> Ok, so, maybe not what people were expecting, but come on! This is Harry! He'd have to do something completely bizarre! Neville will give him a stern talking to later about it, don't worry :D

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this year is going to be a little more complicated, so until further notice the updates will be every other week until I'm satisfied.


End file.
